Harry Potter and the Last of the Old Ones
by the11thtriad
Summary: Not everything is as it seems, just ask Hermione.
1. A Different World

**Chapter One: A Different World **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, you can be sure of two things: **

**One: Hermione and Ron NEVER would have happened. Two: Harry and Ginny NEVER would have happened. **

**Warning: This is femslash (two women together and I do mean in that special way) and more specifically, it will eventually become Hermione Granger/Minerva McGonagall. **

**Edit: 23/10/2011**

As any who survived a war would tell you, war has a way of tearing families apart.

Sometimes it was only distance that separated families, like in the case of Bill and Charlie Weasley. Other times, the separation was forced by a much more permanent hand, like in the case of Percy Weasley.

War destroyed.

Governments crumbled. Fear ran rampant. Safety became a thing of the past.

That's not to say there wasn't resistance.

The rebels weren't Superman or Wonder Woman. They were every day people. They were students who had seen death. They were mothers and fathers, daughters and sons, sisters and brothers.

This is the story of a small group who dared to stand against Voldemort.

~ooOoo~

It was on the 2nd of July that McGonagall sent her Patronus to gather the surviving members of the Order.

The following morning, the rag-tag bunch of exhausted witches and wizards were welcomed to McGonagall Manor by the majestic vision of the Scotland sunrise, reflecting off the dark stones of the ancient Manor. Standing regal in the midst of the magnificent sight was Minerva McGonagall, whose bearing radiated a sense of security they thought buried with Albus Dumbledore.

"Welcome to my home. I am pleased to see you all made it here safe. This is Fifi." She introduced the well dressed house elf beside her who gave a shy wave. "She has been kind enough to offer to show you to your rooms." Her eyes shifted from her recent students to her older ones. "However, I will be the one to show you three to your rooms. There is a matter I need to discuss with you." Arthur, Molly, and Tonks nodded their consent while Hermione lowered her head to hide her smile; her Professor still had no tolerance for idle chatter. Ron, on the other hand, became belligerent at the imagined slight.

"Hold on a minute! That's not fair. We're just as much a part of the Order as they are." He pointed an accusing finger at his flustered parents and Tonks. "We've fought Death Eaters, Dementors, and faced You-Know-Who."

"This coming from the boy who can't be trusted to do his homework." Hermione turned blazing eyes on the gangly teen. "And really Ronald, is it too much to ask that you use his name? It's Voldemort, if you've forgotten. Do you want me to show you how to spell it?"

Bewildered by the girl's unwonted conduct, McGonagall inquired, "Are you alright Miss. Granger?"

Hermione berated herself. McGonagall had enough problems without her adding to them. "I'm fine Professor. I'm sorry about my outburst." She only wished she could promise it wouldn't happen again, but Ron's behavior needed to be modified first.

"Maybe it would be best to let them in on all the Order's business." All eyes turned to the blushing Tonks. "Whether we like it or not, they are a part of this war. It is better to prepare them than it is to wrap them in bubble wrap and pretend **He**," she cast a nervous glance in Hermione's direction, "doesn't want them dead." All eyes returned to McGonagall while Ginny whispered, out of the corner of her mouth:

"What's bubble wrap?" Tonks' answer was an exasperated roll of her pink eyes. It figured that would be the only thing Ginny picked up on.

McGonagall's sharp eyes turned to the young adults in question.

The mischievous twins met her stare head on. Even though their methods were unorthodox, they proved in their seventh year they were willing to fight.

Ron, who was flushed with agitation, avoided her eyes. He had proven to be quick to anger, irresponsible, and had an inclination toward petty jealousy, yet he had shown himself to be loyal to his friends in dire situations.

Harry, The Boy Who Lived, was the most involved of any of them whether she deigned to include him or not.

Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, had the uncanny ability of finding heavily guarded information that fueled the Golden Trio's (as the newspaper had dubbed them) adventures.

Perhaps, it would be safest if she provided them with as many answers as she could?

"Though Mr. Weasley could have stated his opinion on the matter better, I do agree with your assessment Nymphadora."

Tonks glared at Ginny when the youngest Weasley snickered.

Ron barely managed to stutter an apology, before he lost what little ability he had to talk. Only the observant emerald eyes of McGonagall caught the annoyed roll of mocha eyes.

McGonagall acknowledged his apology with a small nod then turned her attention to the other wary travelers. "You all will be shown to your rooms. We will discuss the matter at breakfast in an hour." She turned sharply on her heels and led the way into the ancient Manor.

When she was sure she had escaped the animagus' scrutiny, Ginny let out a relieved sigh before following her friends and family inside.

Unlike at the Burrow and the Muggle house, there were enough rooms for everyone to have their own except for the twins who wanted to room together. They each, also, had a connecting washroom. It was a luxury that had Ginny doing a little jig and the twins exchanging devious smiles. Hermione hadn't had the courage to ask the boys what they were planning. She decided not knowing would be the best for plausible _deniability_.

When her friends started to make plans to search the rest of the Manor, Hermione politely excused herself and headed to her bedroom- the room at the other end of the hall.

She glanced out the large bay window as she lifted her suitcase on her bed. The sight of the valley in the moonlight would be lovely to watch on those sleepless nights.

Languid in her movements, she set to work on unpacking her suitcase. Two pictures, which she had laid protectively between her sweaters, were the first to be picked up. She paused to caress the smiling faces with shadowed eyes, before carefully setting them on the nightstand to the right of her bed.

Next were her books that enlarged once they were free of the confines of her suitcase. A small laugh escaped her as she recalled the sight of the Weasleys trying to pack everything, from their clothes to Molly's pots and pans, into a tiny suitcase... all without the use of magic. She had to endure the glares of the Weasleys as she brought her fully packed suitcase to the front door within five minutes of McGonagall's Patronus. Because she didn't fully unpack, her bag's magic was still functional. For the rest of the night, Harry, Tonks, and her worked hard and quickly to pack the Weasleys' possessions... and in the case of Arthur Weasley trying to stop him from packing the kitchen's appliances.

Returning to the present, mocha eyes searched the room for a place to set her beloved books. She decided on stacking them, by tens making sure she could read the spines, on the antique vanity parallel to her bed. Her prized _Hogwarts, A History _was given a place of honor between the two pictures on her nightstand.

She set to work on unpacking her clothes. She refolded each item of clothing then laid them on her bed. The familiar Muggle action reminded her of simpler, happier times. She allowed herself to become lost in her childhood memories: the days when she was too small to reach the clothing lines. She would sit under the oak tree in her backyard and watch her mum fold their clothes. When the wicker basket was full, her mum would call her over, and together, they would carry the basket into their home. They always dropped the basket on her parents' bed which is where they would sort the clothes. As they separated the clothes, her mum would tell her a story, usually about a fierce princess who fought to protect her homeland. Her giggles would grow so loud that her father would come in to 'investigate' what his 'two favorite girls' were doing.

A knock at the door tugged her mind to the present. "Come in," she yelled, expecting one of her friends. To her surprise, it was Headmistress McGonagall. Her emerald pullover fell to her suitcase unnoticed."Professor," she squeaked. _What was she doing here?_

McGonagall shut the door behind her. "Miss. Granger," she addressed, her attention split between the young woman and the changes that had been made to her guest room. She paused in her perusal to take a closer look at the pictures on the antique nightstand. One was a Muggle photo of a young Hermione cushioned between an older couple. They stood smiling in front of snow capped mountains with long sticks in their hands. They must have been skying. She never did manage to understand the appeal of the Muggle sport. The other frame held a magic photo of the famed trio. The three first years were in front of Hogwarts laughing at something off camera. Minerva knew the photo marked the beginning to the end of their childhood innocence.

"May I help you, Professor?" Hermione's query drew McGonagall's attention from the pictures to herself.

"I came to ask if there was something I could help you with."

Hermione's face clouded in confusion. "I don't have much to unpack, but thank you, Professor." The twins on the other hand... it was best not to think about.

"I was thinking more along the lines of is there something you would like to discuss."

Hermione took a sudden interest in her shoes. "No, Professor." Her words were a mere whisper.

"You still have not learn the art of lying."

"I didn't think lying was an art form."

"It is a despicable art but an art none the less." McGonagall stepped closer to the younger woman to lift her chin. She had learned, in Hermione's first year during the troll incident, that Hermione's eyes were easier to read than any book. "Tell me what is wrong."

Hermione stuttered, "I...I…can't." She wished she had the strength to look away.

"Can not or will not?"

Hermione faltered at the rare softness in her Professor's voice. "I... c-can't?" It came out as more of a question.

"Why?" McGonagall stroked the stubborn chin beneath her fingers.

Hermione leaned into the gentle touch."You have enough to worry about, Professor. You don't need anything more, besides, they're my responsibility."

"The unknown is more worrisome than the known," McGonagall reasoned.

She had to give the woman that. Hermione's world was filled with fears fueled by the unknown. "I had to protect them." Her voice wavered with tears. "Without me there, they would have been defenseless when Voldemort went after them."

"I assume you are talking of your parents." Hermione gave a small nod. "What did you do?"

"I erased their memories of me and replaced them with new one. I sold the house so they would have money to start their new life then apparated them to Australia and got all the Muggle paper work in order. They always wanted to own a café by the coast. My mum loves to watch the boats come in..." she trailed off, realizing she was starting to babble.

"What is the problem?"

"I'm going to die in this war." She had long ago accepted her fate. "They'll never get their memories back. I took their lives from them. I'm no better them Voldemort."

McGonagall could not argue against the very real possibility that they were not going to survive the war. She focused on reassuring the young witch of the one thing she had no doubt about."I cannot pretend to know what the future holds, but what I do know is that you have never been and will never be anything like that monster."

"But-"

"No, Hermione." The use of her first name startled them both. "Voldemort would have tortured and killed them. You two are nothing alike."

Tears filled Hermione's eyes at her Professor's words. "You really think so?" Surely, McGonagall wouldn't lie to her about such a thing.

McGonagall pulled the younger woman into a hug. "I do not think so. I know so." The gentle kiss she placed against the girl's head was lost in brown tresses.

In that moment, with the strong arms around her, the sturdy beat beneath her ear, and the warmth radiating off the older woman, Hermione believed for the first time since Voldemort's return that everything was going to be alright. She deeply breathed in the protection the smell of parchment, ink, and spice provided her.

Meanwhile, McGonagall relished in the feel of the smaller body she held against her own. Her enhanced senses picked up the scent of books, parchment, and lilies. Pulling back, she wiped the tears from the girl's face. "Are you okay?" She tucked a brown curl behind a small pink ear. Tongue tied, Hermione nodded her head. "If I survive the war and you do not, I will take care of your parents."

"If we both die?" McGonagall was as much a target as she was if not more so. The Death Eater who killed the current leader of the light would receive mighty praise from Voldemort. She viciously pushed away the small voice in her head demanding such a person's head.

"We will make a fail safe. Either way, your parents will get their memories back, and they will know what happened to their daughter."

"Thank you."

Minutes passed and neither moved.

"We should head down stairs. It is about time for breakfast," McGonagall suggested.

The dining room was a bustle of activity when they arrived. Harry and Ron were loudly discussing Quidditch; Ron was adamant that this was the year for the Chudley Cannons. Ginny's laughter mixed with her brother's crazed defense of the less than stellar team as Tonks contorted her face into a mixture of people and animals. Arthur and Molly watched their family silently.

"Where are the twins?" Hermione asked. It was never a good thing when the boys disappeared, especially when they were quiet.

The younger group turned wide eyes to her and stuttered at something about zits, sick, and picks. They hurriedly began talking again, hoping know one would ask them any details.

"Do I want to know?" McGonagall muttered out of the side of her mouth to the younger witch beside her.

"Probably not," Hermione admitted.

Chuckling, McGonagall let it go. As long as the twins didn't blow up her Manor, they could do whatever they wish. Some of their 'inventions' had proven to be valuable in battle.

Guiding the younger woman to her seat with a light hand on her lower back, McGonagall pulled out her chair causing Hermione to blush. "Thank you."

The Headmistress hummed her welcome and took her own seat at the end of the table directly across from Hermione.

With everyone seated, the breakfast magically appeared. McGonagall made a mental note to thank her house elf. Fifi had really out done herself. She had made a feast worthy of Hogwarts. Motioning to the food, she gave her permission to start, "Enjoy."

An hour later, the table was surrounded by groaning magical folks. Belts had been loosened, chairs had been pushed back, and plates had been pushed away. McGonagall watched in disbelief as Ronald shoveled everything that was left on the table into his mouth. She believed that Ron had a peg leg, as the Muggles would say... That did not sound quite right.

When he had gathered the last crumb off his plate with his last piece of bread, he leaned back and rubbed his stomach. "Are we having any desert?"

Ginny snorted. Only her brother could think of food after all that. "If you eat anymore, you'll be too fat to get on a broom," the youngest Weasley warned.

Ron scowled, "Shut'up."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Enough," Molly ordered. "Minerva what was it that you wanted to talk with us about?"

McGonagall nodded her thanks before starting, "With Voldemort's return and Dumbledore's death, many are pushing for Hogwarts closing." She waited for the outbursts to stop then continued. "Thankfully, I managed to get the Ministry to agree that even with Voldemort's return and Dumbledore's death there is no safer place than Hogwarts for children who are yet untrained with matters dealing with magic and for those still needing to learn more. Hogwarts' reopening creates the problem of new Professors." Looking at each adult, she added, "That is where you three come in. I would like Tonks to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arthur Muggle Studies, and Molly Potions."

"What!" shouted Ron. "You want my PARENTS to teach at Hogwarts. I'll never live that down. You might as well turn me into a fairy and throw me in the Great Hall at dinner time."

"That could be arranged," Hermione darkly muttered. Maybe, she'd make the boy cupid. Better yet, she'd play cupid and make the bugger snog Crabbe and Goyle.

"B-b-but," Ron stuttered.

"Eloquent as always Ronald, " Hermione snapped.

Harry looked anxiously between his two friends, worried that they were going to have another one of their infamous blow outs.

McGonagall cleared her throat, stopping another legendary fight between the two friends. "Your parents Mr. Weasley, as well as Tonks, are very skilled in each of these fields and in fighting Voldemort and his army. Those are the kind of people I need at Hogwarts to protect my students." She softened her voice and reminded the ill tempered boy, "It would be good for you to remember you are one of the lucky few to still have your parents to embarrass you. There are many in our world, at this very table, that have lost that privilege."

The silence that followed was absolute.

"On that note," Tonks cheerfully stated, "I'd be honored to teach at Hogwarts. Merlin knows, I won't be able to do any good at the Ministry with it still going bonkers after Fudge's last stunt."

Fudge had put Dolores Umbridge- more commonly known as Umbitch- in charge of the Aurors before his death. The toad promptly fired Kingsley, who later died in the fight for Diagon Alley, and demoted those most loyal to him. A week later with the 'new and improved'Auror department, they raided a suspected Death Eater's house. Two minutes later, all eight of those 'Aurors' were dead. As for Dolores Umbridge, she is currently sitting with Gilderoy _Lockhart_ in St. Mungo's. They are planning their wedding for next fall.

"Should have left her with the Centaurs," was grumbled in various voices.

"I agree with Tonks," Arthur clarified. While he was proud of what Hermione had done, he knew better than to say anything in front of his wife. "Hogwarts is the strong hold." It saddened him that the Ministry was falling. Like every government, know matter how good in theory, Muggle or magical, it was going to fall... all because of greed.

"I would like to be close to my family," Molly added. She had already buried one son and had another who bore the physical scars of Voldemort's followers.

"Thank you." It would do wonders to have people, friends, she could trust at her school. "Now that that is settled, I will leave you to finish your unpacking. The coming weeks will be hectic."

Everyone stood to leave. "Miss. Granger if you will remain behind, please." All knew it was not a request, no matter how politely framed.

On their way out, Harry and Ginny both patted Hermione's shoulder offering their silent support for the lecture they thought coming. Ron still angry walked by without a second glance. Tonks, being the last one out of the room, closed the door behind her effectively cutting off McGonagall and Hermione from prying ears and eyes.

Sighing into the silence, McGonagall rose from her seat. She walked over to the younger woman and kneeled down in front of her. "You need to control yourself. That behavior will costs you your friends."

Defiant eyes rose to glare at the Professor but quickly filled with tears when they were met with understanding.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." She knew the anger in her was wrong, but no matter how hard she fought, it grew stronger daily.

"You are worried, scared, and grieving. You have a right to be angry, but you must remember every person in this room earlier cares for you." McGonagall's voice was as confident as always.

"Even you?" It wasn't until she asked the question that she admitted how important the answer was to her. Fearing a negative response, she lowered her head.

Strong fingers lifted her chin. She wondered if it would become a habit. "Even me." Emerald eyes never wavered.

Standing, McGonagall offered a helping hand. "Come along. You still need to finish unpacking, and I have work to attend to."

"Yes Professor." She wanted to talk about her Professor's words, but if there was one thing she had learned about her mentor, it was that the older witch did not like to be pushed.

She took her Professor's hand and refused to let go once standing. With her bedroom on the way to McGonagall's study, she had no reason to let go.

McGonagall kept her questions about the younger's actions to herself as she led the way to the guest room Hermione had claimed.

At the bedroom's door, McGonagall bid farewell, "Until later Miss. Granger."

Hermione released the woman's warm hand and pulled her Professor into a hug.

McGonagall tensed. She didn't think she had ever been hugged by a student. The hug she initiated earlier didn't count. "Thank you," Hermione whispered near her ear. Stepping back, she slipped through her room's door. Her blush made visible by the sun streaming through the window.

Once in her study on the third floor, McGonagall looked into the small mirror on her wall. Her fingers shook as she traced her flushed cheek. "What is happening to me?"

~ooOoo~

**Changes made:**

**The opening sequence (hated the first go 'round). Still have issues with this one but w/e. I give up.**

**Made it glaringly obvious McGonagall treats her elf right. We can't have Hermione getting cozy with a slave owner now can we?**

**Small bonus interaction b/w Tonks and Ginny... and by small, I really do mean minuscule. **

**Hopefully, more word variety. My vocabulary tends to go by-by when writing. Where did my teachers go wrong?**

**Most of the dialogue has been changed. Not in the way of contexts but more for flow... I still expect my old teacher to suddenly appear and attack me with her trident for daring to use the F word. **

**Lastly, I tried to clean up the grammar. I probably still failed epically, but hopefully, it has improved somewhat. **

**~ooOoo~**

**A/N: I feel I should warn you, I'm not Ron's biggest fan. If I was willing to deal with the emotional fallout of Ron's death, I would have killed him before this story started. Alas, it didn't happen and can't happen anytime soon with what I have planned. To sedate my sadistic side, I will poke fun at him but won't make him a complete bastard. **


	2. Elusive Sleep

**Disclaimer: Guess what. It's mine! Well, in my fantasy world it is. **

**Warning: Lesbians be here... kinda... they're working on it... sorta. **

**Edit: 23/10/2011**

* * *

><p>She had always thought the Halloween feast at Hogwarts was a fiasco. One day with the Weasleys informed her that the sugar high students had nothing on boisterous redheads.<p>

The four youngest redheads were viciously fighting over a cup of their mum's infamous hot chocolate. It seemed two teams had formed. One consisted of the twins, the other of the youngest Weasleys. The twins were currently gloating from their comfortable positions on their siblings' backs while arguing something about beauty before the beasts.

Her sensitive ears could hear Molly in the kitchen banging various pots. She was surprised Molly waited so long to claim the kitchen as her own. She grimaced as a particularly high hissing noise came from Arthur's directions. The Weasley Patriarch was trying to understand the complexities of a Muggle radio. By the sounds of the static, he wasn't doing very well. Sitting next to Arthur was Tonks who looked like she had been electrocuted. McGonagall briefly thought of informing the young Auror that her hair was still smoking but figured she was probably already aware.

Harry was the first to notice her arrival. He shot her a crooked grin, before yelling over the squabbling teens. "The Professor should get the first cup, seeing as its her house and all." All four siblings looked up with a bird in the way of a Nimbus look.

"Of course," started George.

Climbing off their younger siblings, Fred continued, "We were just saving it for her."

"Our siblings…" George.

"…can be right…" Fred.

"…beast," they chorused. A couple well-placed elbows stopped any protest from Ron.

Shaking his head at their antics, Harry grabbed the much sought after hot chocolate (he still couldn't figure out how they managed not to spill it) from the table and handed it to the Professor. "Bugger if I know why they're fighting over hot chocolate in July Professor." Shouts of protest arose from his blasphemy.

She returned small porcelain cup to Harry. "You should have the first cup. You need to experience it to understand."

Harry hesitantly took a sip, not understanding what the big deal was until the hot liquid slid across his tongue and down his throat. "Ohhh…" His taste buds did a little happy jig.

"That Mr. Potter is why. There is nothing like Molly's hot chocolate first thing in the morning no matter the time of year."

"Why have I never had this before?" He wondered aloud.

"Mum only makes it on special occasions or when one of us is sick mate," Ron explained.

"What's the special occasion?" _Dumbledore's dead; I have ___Horcruxes___ to find; something's wrong with Hermione..._

Floating into the dining room with plates full of food trailing after her, Molly cheerfully explained, "Hogwarts shall open again, and we will be together." Turning to Minerva, she added, "I love to cook, as you know, so I asked Fifi to allow me to do such. I hope you don't mind, Minerva?"

"Of course, I do not. A home cooked meal from Molly Weasley is not something you turn down." The round redhead blushed at her old Professor's compliment. They were so rare to come by.

Needlessly glancing around, McGonagall asked, as if it just crossed her mind, the question that had been on her mind since she entered the room and failed to see the wild, chestnut mane. "Where is Miss. Granger?

"She hasn't come down yet Professor," Harry answered. He was eying one of the trays Molly had brought in, wondering if anyone would notice if he took another cup for himself.

"Why has no one gone to wake her?" Noticing, the nervous glances exchanged between the younger people, she demanded, "What?"

All eyes glided towards Tonks. Feeling the stares, Tonks looked up from her…err… book and groaned. _Why was she the one always having the awkward conversations with the Professor?_ Wiping the rain water from her face, she grabbed the Hippogriff by the ears and rushed out, "Everybody's too bloody afraid."

McGonagall asked incredulously, "You have faced Death Eaters, Dementors, and even Voldemort, yet you are afraid to wake a seventeen year old?" Ron flinched at the familiar words.

"Yeah."

"Yep."

"Oh yeah."

"Bloody right." were the simultaneous responses.

"She can be right scary lately." Ron helpfully added, painfully remembering the Avis spell she cast on him right before school ended when he took her book. It took weeks for the peck marks to disappear.

"I suppose you wish me to wake her?" She didn't wait for an answer, before leaving to wake a girl who had struck fear into the hearts of her fellow house guests.

She rapped her knuckles on the oak door and waited...and waited...and waited. Slowly so as not to startle the girl, she pushed the door open and peered into the room. She spotted the elusive Muggle born standing in front of the bay window. Silently, she approached Hermione. She curiously noted the white cords sprouting from Hermione's ears that led to a silver circular object in the young witch's hand. Most carious was the voices that appeared to be coming from Hermione's ears.

Not bothering to turn around, Hermione calmly greeted, "Hello, Professor." McGonagall was surprised. She was known for the light steps of her animagus even in her human form.

She had no way of knowing that Hermione recognized her scent.

"Good morning, Miss. Granger. I have come to gather you for breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat." Curiosity getting the better of her, she had to ask, "What are those things in your ears?"

Hermione smirked at her favorite Professor. "Didn't anyone ever tell you curiosity killed the cat?"

McGonagall almost, _almost, _rolled her eyes. "Satisfaction brought it back."

"They're headphones," Hermione explained. Guessing the next question, she expanded, "And this is a portable CD player." She held up the circular object. "It's a Muggle device that allows you to listen to music. It calms me when I can't sleep."

"You cannot sleep?" Her thoughts of the strange device were forgotten.

"No," Hermione reluctantly admitted. She didn't know why she had mentioned that. Not even Ron or Harry were aware of her erratic sleeping patterns.

"Why?"

"I don't know," she lied. Staring at her Professor's black boots, she idly wondered if the older witch had ever worn sneakers.

"How long has this been going on?" McGonagall inquired.

"A while," She kept the knowledge of how it had grown worse since she left Hogwarts to herself.

Huffing in disgust at the vague answer, McGonagall snapped her fingers to call for Fifi. With a loud crack, the aged house elf appeared. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Would you please inform the others that we will not be joining them for breakfast?"

"You and the lady need to eat Mistress." The house elf shook her finger at her charge. She knew how forgetful her Mistress could be. She was like her father in that way.

"We will Fifi. I will call for you later to bring some food." She knew how stubborn her elf could be. She was like her mother in that way.

"Yes, Mistress." Snapping her fingers, the house elf disappeared. She'd give them a couple hours then she would return. No one would go without food in her house.

"She is well spoken and more out spoken then the other house elves I have met."

"She has been well educated as has her family. Our families have been together for generations. She has been with me my whole life."

Hermione saved that thought for later. Maybe she could get Fifi to tell her some stories about her mentor. "Why are you not joining the others?"

"You need to sleep."

"I can't."

"You can and you will. We will remain here until you do."

Hermione knew that tone. The damn woman was stubborn. Grumbling the whole while, Hermione gathered her sleep clothes and headed for her bathroom to change. She never noticed the slight twitching of attentive ears or the amused grin on said woman.

She came out of the bathroom to see her Professor sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room with a burrowed Muggle book in hand. "Planning on sitting there the whole while Professor?"

"Yes Miss. Granger," was the prim reply. McGonagall was never less than prim and proper... even when watching a student sleep.

Hermione walked to the bed and climbed in. She couldn't believe the older witch. Who sits and watches someone sleep? She used to do it with _Crookshanks,_ before he was killed, but that was different. He was a pet. She was no pet.*

"Is everything alright Miss. Granger?"

"Fine and dandy," she hissed and turned her back to her Professor. Damn woman needed to stop being so nice. It made it harder.

Shutting her eyes, Hermione decided to pretend to sleep. McGonagall would be none the wiser, and she wouldn't risk anyone hearing her nightmares.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open as her body jerked. Judging by the new position of the sun, a couple hours had passed. Merlin, she had actually fallen asleep. That was not part of the plan. Reluctantly, she admitted she needed the sleep. Besides, it didn't seem like she had a nightmare. She couldn't remember anything nor was her heart trying to split her chest in two.

Relaxing, she froze. How did she not notice the warm body pressed against her back? The familiar hand on her stomach? The unique smell that surrounded her?

She poked at the hand on her stomach. She waited for any sign of wakefulness. When none came, she smirked. Reaching out again, she grabbed the long fingered hand with her own. She inspected the hand. She had always been fascinated by them. They were always sure when they cast a spell no matter how complicated. On closer inspection, the hand revealed it was hard worked. Faint scars were scattered across the pale skin. Calluses, which most witch's and wizards didn't have, were present on her knuckles and palms. She wondered where they came from.

Her thoughts shifted directions to focus on the riddle of why her Professor was in her bed. The thoughts didn't last long before they were pushed away by the sensation of the animagus' breath ghosting over her neck. She entangled her fingers with the newly claimed ones as her eyes grew heavy. She pushed closer to the warmth.

Unknown to her, McGonagall had always been a light sleeper. At the alien touch, she had woken. Confused about where she was, she had slowly opened her eyes. It took all her self control not to jump in surprise. She was in bed with a student... snuggling with a student. Before she could completely lose her mind, the light touch that had woken her grabbed her attention. Emerald eyes fluttered closed at the gentle touch. It had been a long time, if ever, since someone had touched her so lovingly. She held her breath when the small fingers intertwined with her longer ones and the smaller body pressed closer.

She waited until Hermione's breathing evened out before pulling her closer. After witnessing what caused the young witch to avoid sleep, she would do whatever it took to stop it.

-x-x-x-

_The book she had snagged from Hermione was fascinating. She wondered if this Lewis fellow was really a Muggle. His interpretations of magical gateways was intriguing. She especially liked the lion that was leading the children. _

_It took a moment for her keen ears to register the soft whimper. She set her book down and focused on the small form curled in bed. Before her eyes, Hermione began to thrash. The silent scream that followed was somehow louder than any scream McGonagall had ever heard. _

_She ran to the bed to wake the girl, but Hermione had other ideas. Hermione latched on to her and pulled her in bed. The feel of tears against her neck stopped her thoughts of leaving. She started to run her hand through the wild mane spread across her chest. The tears slowed, but the hold remained strong. With her free hand, she rubbed Hermione's trembling back. _

_The Scottish brogue that Hermione had known for six years softened and began to sing. The strict Head of Gryffindor was nowhere in sight._

-x-x-x-

Leaving her memories behind, McGonagall looked to the clock. She would let the girl sleep longer; if that morning was the usual, she had been sorely missing a good night's rest. Not wanting to disturb Hermione, she closed her eyes and settled down for a nap. She didn't know how they became to spoon, and frankly, she didn't care.

Unknown to both women, the sound of purring filled the room.

~ooOoo~

The next time they woke, it was together. They blushed and quickly moved to untangle themselves. They both stumbled before finding their feet and standing up. Speechless, they stared at each other from opposite sides of the bed. In this quiet and tense atmosphere, Hermione's grumbling stomach sounded like thunder.

McGonagall was quick to suggest, "Lunch?"

"Sure," Hermione croaked. _Could this get any more embarrassing? _

Snapping her fingers, McGonagall waited for Fifi.

A loud crack sounded. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Would you get us some food, please?"

"Mrs. Weasley made lunch, Mistress." She was keeping a careful eye on that woman.

"Perfect," Turning to Hermione, she informed her, "I will wait for you to change."

"There's no need for you to wait. I can find my own way down."

"I insist," her tone allowed no argument. She turned to the elf. "Thank you, Fifi."

"You are welcome, Mistress. How did you sleep?" Large, yellow eyes looked lovingly up at the formidable witch.

She should have known Fifi would have checked in on them. Though she would deny it to anyone who suggested it, her cheeks were heated with a light blush. "I slept well, thank you. Will you tell Molly we will be joining them soon, please?"

"Yes, Mistress. I am happy you slept well. It's been too long, Mistress." With a pop, she was gone.

On her way to the bathroom, Hermione stopped at the elf's comment. Was she not the only one who was having nightmares?

Hearing the cease of her student's steps, McGonagall demanded, "Do you plan on going down stairs in your pajamas, Miss. Granger?" She would have to remind Fifi to be careful about what she reveled around others. The last thing she needed was everyone to know her troubles.

"No, Professor. I'll be just a minute." She ran to the bathroom where her clothes from before her forced nap were folded on the counter.

When they arrived in the dining room, they were met with an empty room. They shared a look of confusion before following the laughter drifting from outside. It lead them outside to where a large picnic was taking place.

"Wotcher Professor, Hermione," the now blue haired Tonks cheerfully greeted. All eyes fell to the newly awakened duo. Wide smiles were on everyone's face as they all offered their own greeting. To the shock of her friends, Hermione recuperated with her own smile. It was small but genuine.

Giggling at their shocked faces, she ran over to where Ron, Harry, and Ginny were sitting under an old tree. Plopping down she grabbed Ron's plate, right out of his hands. "Man, I am hungry," she mumbled, focusing on the heap of food in front of her, shocking everyone further.

The group turned to their dignified Professor half expecting her to break out in song and dance. Anything seemed possible.

McGonagall gave her customary nod of acknowledgment, took a seat by Molly, and grabbed a cup of tea… to everyone's disappointment.

~ooOoo~

"You're looking better Hermione," Ginny spoke what was on everyone's mind.

"I feel better." She showed no signs of irritation which had become common place.

"Maybe now you won't be such a bloody git," Ron mumbled still upset that she took his food.

"Ronald Weasley how dare you?" Ginny shrieked, slapping him on the arm.

"Hey! What was that for?" He rubbed his sore arm. "You guys were thinking the same thing."

Harry leaned back against the tree as his two redheaded friends bickered. He studied his third friend closely, something was different. Her eyes had a glint he hadn't seen in a long time.

Feeling his eyes on her, Hermione turned toward Harry.

Meeting her eyes, he glimpsed something he had never seen there. Before he could fully grasp it as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared.

~ooOoo~

"Hermione looks better," Arthur observed.

"Indeed," Minerva agreed.

"What'd you do Professor?" Tonks asked.

"I made her sleep."

"She's been having trouble?" Molly asked, the legendary mother hen making an appearance.

"Yes, though she went to sleep quickly today and seemed to sleep well." She decided to keep the nightmare to herself. Hermione and her needed to talk about what happened before talking to anyone else.

"Interesting."

"Not really. Having the Professor there is just what she needed," Tonks distractedly corrected. She just could not get her book to obey. She would burn it, if she didn't think it would somehow turn it against her, and she would be the one flaming. Feeling their eyes, she looked up. "What?" she demanded defensively. She would like to see them try and conquer this book.

"What do you mean Tonks?" Molly asked. Her motherly tone soothed the defensive Auror. She really missed her mum.

"What with the war and all, I bet she doesn't feel safe. Being a Muggle born, this isn't the type of warfare she's used to. Having someone of the Professor's caliber near her when doing something as vulnerable as sleeping is probably what she needs to feel safe," Tonks explained.

"Oh," three voices echoed.

"What'd ya think I meant?"

"Nothing dear," Molly soothed.

Changing the subject, Minerva suggested they talk about the start of the upcoming school year. As the three talked about their plans for the year, Minerva's mind drifted to that morning. What had made Hermione so frightened?

* * *

><p><strong>Changes Made: <strong>

**Once again, I tweaked dialogue and grammar.**

**I-Pod has now been changed to CD player. I think they were around back then. Either way, she is not having a cassette player. Those damn things were evil, always eating my tapes. **

**Fifi is now a well spoken house elf (who is keeping a close eye on that devious Molly Weasley). **

**Tonks and that book still going at it. Wonder what it's going to do to her next.**

**Finally, Hermione is snarkier (we are going to pretend that's a word) in this go 'round. Reading the old stuff, I realized that McGonagall seemed to be the fix-all to Hermione's problems. Don't get me wrong she still is, but Hermione shouldn't make it too easy for her. I don't know about you, but I get snarky (pretend it's a word) with my loved ones. Enemies get the glare of death and the occasional growl.**

* * *

><p><strong>*So wanted to put: 'Though, she wouldn't mind being pet if McGonagall was the one doing the petting.' Sadly, it was not to be. Hermione's still in denial. <strong>


	3. Nighttime Visitors

**Disclaimer: That whole if you can dream it you can make it reality is hogwash. I dreamed it, yet Harry Potter still belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Warning: Lesbians be lying in wait. Escape while you still can.**

**Edit: 23/10/2011**

* * *

><p>It had been two weeks since Hermione had awakened in McGonagall's arms. In that time, she had only seen the older woman during meal times. The rest of the day McGonagall spent with her three new Professors, in her study preparing for the upcoming school year.<p>

For the most part, the twins and Ginny were rarely spotted. The occasional bang, smoke, giggle, or scream kept the house from becoming too worried about them.

The Golden Trio spent their days locked in Hermione's room researching Horcruxes. While the books Dumbledore had left Harry were helpful, they still didn't have an idea of what all the Horcruxes were, or where they could find them, or how to destroy them.

Unknown to the two boys, Hermione would spend her nights reading the books as well. They provided a reason to not sleep that had nothing to do with her nightmares. At least, that's what she told herself.

On a night that her nightmares began to take form in reality, the books failed her. Each disastrous attempt to escape her pursuer led to feelings of betrayal that was multiplied by her anger. The written word had never failed her. It was the one constant in her life, but even that had been robbed from her by her cloaked enemy.

She threw the worthless book against the wall. Her chest heaved, and her fists clenched.

The shadows took on a life of their own. Her eyes came to rest on the place her nightmares were given form: the bed. She tried to stop the memories, but one forced its way past her terrified mind.

Determined eyes fluttered open. It was the consuming despair that urged her to slip through the door of her room and make her way down the hall, igniting a small spark of hope.

She was careful with her every step, depending on the rain covering any sound. She was unwilling to wake the sleeping occupants of the rooms she passed. They weren't who she needed. Reaching the stairs, she slowly made her way to the third floor. The ancient Manor didn't make a sound in protest; instead, it offered the girl its silent support.

A mahogany door, at the end of the hall, marked the entrance to the Master's Chambers. Her lingering fear left no room for hesitation or doubt. She rapped on the door. Her hands trembled in sync with her body as she waited. Alone, reality began to blur; her mind a swirl with images of the world of her nightmares.

She failed to notice the opening door. Her black eyes remained unfocused until a concerned McGonagall asked, "Miss. Granger?"

Her eyes focused, zeroing in on the woman in front of her. Gone was the traditional tartan replaced by a green silk night-shift. The glasses that so often framed emerald eyes were no where in sight.

McGonagall watched her worriedly. The cat in her could smell the fear flowing from the girl. Her enhanced eyes could pick up the beads of sweat damping the brunette tresses that threatened to roll into obsidian eyes. The sleep-shirt the girl wore was plastered to her. Goosebumps, whether from the cold or fear she knew not, ran along the girl's forearms and legs. "Hermione?" Still, the girl did not speak; however, McGonagall could tell it was not from a lack of trying. The pale throat rippled with unspoken words.

Stepping aside, she motioned for Hermione to enter. When the younger woman passed her, she felt the slight form shake as it briefly brushed against her.

Hermione stopped at the foot of the large canopy bed centered in the master bedroom. She turned to the older woman.

McGonagall was bewildered by what black eyes were where begging her for. When she understood what was being asked of her, her jaw clenched. She couldn't do what was being asked. The morning two weeks ago had been a spur of the moment thing. She had seen a student in pain and did what she could to end it. That was all it was.

Or was it?

During her rounds as Head of Gryffindor, she had heard many students cry out from a nightmare. How many of them did she crawl in bed with, well allowed herself to be pulled into bed with? A staggering total of… one.

She could explained the morning away as a one time deal, but if she were to allow Hermione to stay with her tonight that would be crossing a line. A line she wasn't willing to cross.

She began to tell the young Gryffindor she would always be there to listen, but what Hermione was asking was impossible. "Herm..." Thunder boomed, shaking the windows to the family Manor.

Hermione's head swiveled to look behind her as if expecting a monstrous fiend. Her body trembled like a leaf stuck in a hurricane.

McGonagall had enough. In three long strides, she drew Hermione to her. "I have you," She whispered against the younger's hair. "I have you." Small hands clutched her night-shift, pulling her close as one would a life preserver. The wetness of tears dampened her neck as Hermione nestled closer.

She kissed Hermione's forehead and nudged her toward the bed. She would not, _could not_, walk away from this. When she tried to pull a way, Hermione whimpered and squeezed tighter. She leaned down, "You need to let go. I am not going anywhere," she promised near a delicate ear. "You need to let go so we may get in to bed," she explained. Hermione hesitantly released her mentor.

"I give you my word." She gently wiped the tears from soft cheeks. "I never break my word."

McGonagall walked to the side of her bed. She pulled the covers down- she had been about to do it when the knock sounded on her door earlier- and climbed into bed.

Before she could complete her invitation for Hermione to join her, her arms were full of the small brunette again. Once the shock wore off, a small laugh escaped. She felt the answering smile against her neck. She made herself comfortable while instinctively holding Hermione close. She knew that here mere presence was what was desired not her words. "Goodnight," she whispered.

For the first time, Hermione spoke, "Goodnight."

McGonagall could have sworn, before she was claimed by Morpheus, she felt a kiss flutter against her neck. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Hermione remained. A rare smile tugged at her full lips. She was safe. Nestling deeper into the warmth of her Professor, Hermione's eye lids drooped. They would never be able to touch her here.

That night, she was lulled to sleep by the melody of a noble heart.

~ooOoo~

Seven saw the early risers up even with their late night. Neither bothered to move. The awkwardness of two weeks previous was absent.

"Will you tell me what happened," McGonagall requested.

"I had a nightmare." Simplistic was best.

"What was it about?" She twirled a brunette curl around her finger.

"I don't know. I can never remember. I just wake up scared."

"How often do these nightmares occur?"

"Every night."

McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "Every night? For how long?"

Hermione wasn't sure what to do. She had never spoken to anyone about her nightmares. What if McGonagall found it stupid how much she allowed them to affect her? According to Fifi, her Professor experienced nightmares, but to her knowledge, they had never influenced how she lived her life.

"Hermione?"

"The nightmares started right before forth year. They didn't start nightly until fifth year." _When you were stunned by three stunners, _she finished in her head.

"Three years." The animagus went rigid. "Why are you just coming to me now?" She forced through clenched teeth. How could she not have noticed when one of her cubs was suffering?

"It was never as bad as last night. Reading has always gotten me through the nights, but it didn't help last night." Her disgust was evident.

"Why did I not notice your trouble sleeping, during my rounds through Gryffindor tower? How did the girls who shared your dorm not notice?" Potter's dorm mates sure noticed his.

"I cast a notice-me-not and a silence spell around my bed." Hermione knew it was pointless to lie. The damn woman always got the truth out of her somehow.

"Damn it. What were you thinking?" McGonagall growled. "You could have been hurt and no one would have known."

Hermione strengthened her hold. She didn't want the older woman jumping from the bed. She was comfortable where she was. She stayed silent, rubbing the angry woman's arm to her shoulder and back. Gradually, the body beneath her relaxed. With her free hand, Hermione grabbed McGonagall's hand and rested their hands on the muscled stomach of the animagus.

"I didn't tell anyone, because I didn't want to be a burden," Hermione admitted.

"A burden," McGonagall mouthed. "How could you ever think yourself a burden?"

"The first year I was in the magic world, I was attacked by a troll, made friends with _Harry Potter_ who's a magnet for trouble, broke several school rules to keep a stone away from Voldemort, and was injured. Second year, there was a basilisk, and I was petrified. Third year, I used the time turner that you intrusted to me to help a convict escape from the Ministry, and I was injured. Fourth year, there was the Triwizard Tournament where Cedric died during Voldemort's return. Fifth year, there came Umbridge, Dumbledore's Army, and the battle at the Department of Mysteries where Sirius was killed, and I was injured. Sixth year, Hogwarts was attacked, and Dumbledore died. I was injured, and Harry revealed what was needed to defeat Voldemort."

"All those are reasons for you to talk to someone, Hermione." She rubbed her thumb over the younger witch's knuckles.

Hermione smiled at the touch. "We all had enough on our plates without my added nightmares. Besides, I learned to live with them."

"That is why you came to my room in the middle of the night shaking in fear." This time it was McGonagall who refused to let the girl pull back. "If you have such a handle on them then why come here?"

"I learned to live with them. I never said I learned to stop them." Nervously, she chewed her bottom lip. "The morning you stayed with me you stopped them." Her eyes fixated on the far wall."It's been so long since I haven't had one. I have gotten use to them. Then, you had to go and reminded me what it's like not to have them. It wasn't so easy to ignore them after that. Last night, it was bad." Her eyes grew moist. "You were the only thing I could think of."

McGonagall held the younger woman tightly, as she cried the tears she had been holding back for years. She repeated the words from last night, "I have you." As the tears tapered off, she commanded, "If you experience another nightmare, you are to come to me." There was steel in her voice.

"I don't think that's a good idea." She wanted it more than anything, but she didn't want to annoy the older woman.

"I was not asking." She forced Hermione to look at her. "Give me your word. You will come to me when you have a nightmare or when you want to talk. None of this dealing with it yourself."

"I promise." What more could she do? She laid her head back down on the broad chest of her Professor.

Sensitive ears picked up the quiet noise of a waking house. "We should get up," McGonagall stated. She didn't bother to move.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, tightening her hold.

They shared a smile and reluctantly parted. McGonagall walked Hermione to the door. Before the brunette could leave, she stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. "Do not forget your promise."

"I won't."

* * *

><p><strong>Changes made:<strong>

**Not much changed in this one. Slight change in dialogue and descriptions. Honestly, you probably won't notice the difference. I barely notice them. **


	4. Reflections

**Disclaimer: I don't know who you are, but I sure as Hell know who I'm not and that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Warning: OMG! They're multiplying! **

**Edit: 23/10/2011**

* * *

><p>The next month was filled with research for Hermione. For McGonagall, it was filled with long talks with the other Professors. That is to say, the days were filled with such. Nighttime was a different story.<p>

The dark of night saw Hermione sneaking through the Manor to McGonagall's room. She no longer bothered trying to sleep without the other woman. Sleep wasn't the only thing they did. Until the clock struck the magical hour of midnight, the two women would relax on the plush sofa in McGonagall's room and talk. These talks were filled with what they did during the day and often turned to tales of the past because of Hermione's Horcrux restriction.

With the ringing of the clock's toll still present in the room, they would retire to bed. Neither spoke of how Hermione would always tuck her head under McGonagall's chin, or how McGonagall held Hermione close nor did either speak of how they would awake closer than before.

They would break apart and go about the morning routine separately.

It was an unusual routine, but it worked well for both of them. Hermione no longer had bags under her eyes that needed a glamor. Her patience and humor had returned. McGonagall, if anyone bothered to look, had an extra pep in her step and a brighter twinkle in her eye.

On the 17th of August, their routine was shattered by a certain redhead. No, not Ron. The blame fell to another called Ginny. The young Quidditch star cornered her friend in her bedroom that morning. The fiery temperament that the Weasleys were known for made an appearance as she passionately argued for a sleep over. She used such arguments as school was going to start soon, gossip needed to be exchanged, and they made not live to see another night. As fast as she had arrived, she left.

Hermione stared at where her friend once was. The girl didn't even give her a chance to say no. She understood and even agreed with what Ginny said. This would be one of the last opportunities that they had to hang out without being surrounded by hundreds of teenagers.

If it had been a few years before when she didn't have the nightmares or even a month before when she hadn't learned the solution to the nightmares, she would have gladly had the sleepover. Now though, she knew what it was like to sleep through the night, to share a bed with McGonagall. So, it was understandable when her fear of that night was skillfully hidden beneath a pissed off exterior.

Straightening her shoulders, she left her room with confidence and false cheer. She'd be damned if she was going to let anyone know how much she dreaded the night to come. Besides, it wasn't like she could continue to share McGonagall's bed when they were at Hogwarts. It was best to get used to things now.

Throughout the day, she hid her fear from the boys who wisely kept quiet about her snappy attitude.

When dinner arrived, she forced herself to eat. It gave her a reason to not partake in the multiple conversations being thrown back and forth. When Ginny brought up the slumber party and everyone agreed that it was a good idea, she may or may not have violently stabbed her steak.

Hermione looked away from her plate unable to force another bite. Emerald eyes caught her own gaze briefly before they were ripped away by a question posed by Tonks. She ignored the urge to strangle the metamorphmagus. Tonks really was a nice girl even if her timing sucked. Grimacing, she sipped at her pumpkin juice hoping that it would fill the gnawing hollowness in her belly.

Surprisingly she had a fun time with Ginny. She hadn't realized how much she missed just joking around. Everything else, except for her nights with McGonagall and even those nights were tainted by her nightmares, were serious.

It was a nice change to talk about old gossip (they had no way of getting the new stuff) and reminiscing about old times. It was also funny to hear about what the twins and Ginny had been working on during the summer. What they had in store for the remaining Hogwarts' students was going to be fascinating to watch. The Professors were definitely going to have a 'fun' time with all the prank gadgets the twins were getting ready to sell.

Ginny was the one to bring an end to the excited chatter with a loud yawn. "We better get some sleep. No way will mum let us sleep the day away." Hermione nodded in agreement.

An hour later and Hermione was still staring at the ceiling listening to the even breaths of her friend in the next bed. She fought sleep for as long as she could, but the siren's call was too powerful. Without her consent, her eyes closed.

Ginny jerked awake. What had awakened her? With drowsy eyes, she scanned the room, noting that the clock read 03:32. She was about to ask Hermione if she heard the noise to when it sounded again. She was surprised to realize the whimpering came from her left where her friend slept.

"Hermione," She called, freaked by the noises Hermione was making. From the safety of her bed, she tried again and again to wake her. She was hesitant to go near Hermione, knowing from experience how violent some could be in their sleep.

The sound became to much causing her to stand and approach her friend. Reluctantly, she reached out to gently shake the older girl's arm. She snatched her hand back when Hermione flinched as if her touched burned.

Her grey-green eyes darted around the room, looking for help. Maybe she should go get Harry and Ron. They would know what to do. If they didn't, maybe her parents would. They always helped her.

The situation was taken out of her hands when the bedroom door opened to reveal McGonagall. The formidable woman passed by Ginny without a glance. She only had eyes for one person.

Ginny opened her mouth to warn McGonagall against touching, but the words died in her throat. The older woman had grabbed Hermione's hand, and to Ginny's surprise, was pulled into bed. She couldn't have been more shocked if Voldemort had surrendered than she was that McGonagall allowed Hermione to pull her in to bed.

"Hermione, it is just a dream." Ginny stared. This was unbelievable. Professor McGonagall, one of the most feared Professors, was gently wiping away tears from her friend's cheek.

Her jaw ached as she watched Hermione come awake underneath their Professors touch and throw herself into the other woman's arms.

"Everything is going to be alright," Minerva kept repeating. Hermione squeezed her tighter, her body shaking with silent sobs.

"It hurts." Minerva's advanced hearing barely heard the mumbled words against her neck.

"I know." It hurt to see her friend in such a state. She wanted her prickly Hermione back. Reverting to her fail safe, Minerva began to sing. Immediately, full lips curved into a smile against her neck while the small body in her arms begun to relax.

"What am I going to do when school starts?" She couldn't sleep one night without nightmares if Minerva wasn't holding her. How was she going to survive during school, when Minerva wouldn't be a short walk away, if not right next to her?

"We will figure something out," Minerva promised.

They sat in silence, when Hermione realized something. "Minerva, why are you here?"

The ebony haired witch tensed. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" Hermione clutched her painfully tight. "I mean, how did you know I was having a nightmare?"

"I heard you." She began to fidget.

Hermione pulled back to look at the older woman. It wasn't like her to squirm. "How did you hear me?"

Emerald eyes flitted toward the window. "I was passing by."

"At three in the morning?" Broad shoulders shrugged. Hermione smiled sweetly, before laying her head back where shoulder met neck. "Thank you."

The tall witch marginally relaxed. "You are welcome." That was easier than she thought it would be.

"Minerva?"

"Yes?"

"Will you stay?"

"Of course." There was no hesitation.

Closing her sore jaw, Ginny left the room, softly closing the door behind her. She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had held her crying friend, had sung to her, had wiped her tears, but what really boggled her mind was that they didn't act like it was the first time.

She had to talk to someone about this. Ron would blow a gasket, the twins would tease Hermione unmercifully, and Harry…well Harry would probably be offended that his best friend didn't come to him herself.

Standing in the dark hallway, her mind drifted back to a month and a half ago.

-x-x-x-

_It had been a week since the attack at Hogwarts- since Dumbledore's death. Three days had passed, since the full scale attack on Diagon Alley and a smaller attack on the Ministry, where Percy Weasley was killed. The Weasley family, even with their disagreement with Percy's choices, mourned for the lost of their brother and son. To make matters worse, Bill and Charlie were unable to be with their family._

_The Weasleys had hidden themselves in a small Muggle village along with Harry and Hermione, until McGonagall Manor was ready. Normally when Ginny had a problem, she would turn to her friends. This time she could not. She couldn't owl her friends from school for fear of Voldemort finding them._

_As for the friends living under the same roof as her, well…_

_Harry had learned of Lupin's death at the same time she had learned about Percy's. With the death of his last remaining 'family' member and the Headmaster- his mentor- he was in no shape to comfort anyone else. In a way, Ginny was used to this. Harry was a nice boy, but he often had more important things to worry about than helping someone with their 'smaller' problems._

_Hermione, her first choice of comfort, was struggling with her own issues. She had in a way lost both her parents by erasing their memory. Usually her friend, no matter how dire her personal circumstances, would find time to help, but Ginny had noticed that over the past year, even before the attack, her friend was withdrawing from everyone._

_All these thoughts pinged around Ginny's head making sleep impossible. Ginny quietly, so not to wake Hermione, got out of bed and went to the kitchen. She raided the fridge looking for something sweet to distract her from her melancholy thoughts. She found chocolate fudge ice cream. Grabbing the container and a spoon, she took a seat at the kitchen table._

_Lost in thought she didn't hear the footsteps behind her. "Would you mind company?" The softly spoken question caused Ginny to jump out of her chair. Her hand rose to cover her heart. "Merlin, you scared me Tonks. I didn't even know you were here."_

"_Sorry," Tonks sheepishly apologized. "I arrived about an hour ago. How 'bout that company?"_

"_Of course." Ginny retook her seat as Tonks grabbed a pint of chocolate swirl and a spoon. Together they ate their ice cream in a comfortable silence._

"_What are you doing up at this hour Ginny?" _

_Ginny shrugged her shoulders and simply explained, "I couldn't sleep."_

"_There's a lot of that going around." Throwing away both containers of ice cream, Tonks asked, "Are you going to go back to bed now?"_

_Looking at the clock that read 03:24 Ginny gloomily muttered, "I don't see the point." Tonks nodded her head in agreement._

"_I was thinking about lighting the fireplace in the living room. Care to join me?"_

"_Yeah." They walked to the living room. Tonks set about lighting the fire the Muggle way as she threw over her shoulder, "Throw some pillows on the floor and grab a couple blankets. We are going to do this right."_

_Ginny did as she was told. She laid out blankets on the floor and put the pillows against the couch. Once done, she sat down to watch the green haired Tonks. A couple minutes later, Tonks turned around with a large smile on her face. "These Muggles must go completely batters doing things their way." She plopped down next to Ginny._

"_Hermione still does some things the Muggle way. She says it relaxes her."_

"_To each their own, I suppose." They sat in companionable silence watching the flames flicker and crackle. "Why couldn't you sleep?"_

_Ginny turned to the older woman, but Tonks eyes had not left the fire. She turned her eyes back to the flames. "Percy." It was one word, but it said everything. She closed her eyes as she felt them fill with tears. Despite her best efforts, a few determined tears made it through._

_When Tonks wrapped her arm around her shoulders, it opened the flood gates. She turned into the older woman burying her head against the woman's chest._

_Tonks sat quietly as the younger girl's tears soaked through her t-shirt. She remained still with both arms now wrapped around the girl, watching the dancing flames. When tears turned to the occasional sniffle, Tonks spoke. "I imagine it's doubly hard since you were not close to Percy towards the end." Ginny nodded her head. "You probably think he thought you didn't care about him right?" That earned another sob from the girl. "After he did what he did, did you ever stop loving him?"_

"_No." Her voice was choked with tears._

"_Did you ever doubt that he loved you?"_

"_No."_

"_Then what makes you think he doubted you." Teary grey-green eyes lifted to look at her. "Every family has disagreements. That does not mean you stop loving each other. Percy would have known you all loved him, even if you didn't agree with what he was doing."_

_Ginny laid her head back down. Nothing more was said as the two took comfort in their friend's presence for the remaining night._

-x-x-x-

Ginny blinked, bringing herself back to reality. She looked down the hall to where her room was then walked the other way. Softly, she knocked on the door, rocking on her feet as she waited for it to be answered.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" Tonks asked.

"Can I come in?" Ginny smiled at the pink haired woman. Tonks stepped aside, allowing her to enter.

"I thought you and Hermione were having a sleep over."

Ginny sat on the foot of the older woman's unmade bed. "We were, but she had a nightmare."

"And you left her?" Tonks asked in confusion as she joined Ginny on her bed.

"Someone else is helping her," Ginny hedged. Now that she was there, she started to doubt it was a good idea to tell anyone about what she had seen earlier.

"Who's helping her?" There weren't very many people in the house and most seemed to annoy the intelligent witch lately.

This was Tonks, her friend. The woman who had held her countless times as she cried and never told anyone, the same woman who would sit quietly as she ranted. This was Tonks, who knew when she needed a laugh or just someone there and who provided both. Ginny could feel the amber eyes burning into her. "McGonagall." She coughed.

"What about McGonagall?"

"She's helping Hermione." Ginny blushed as she remembered the loving tone her Professor had used when talking to her friend.

Tonks noticed the blush. "What aren't you telling me Gin?"

"Promise it won't leave this room?"

Tonks cocked her head to the side. Ginny had never had her promise to keep anything secret before. She had rightly assumed it was a given. Her curiosity poked, Tonks agreed. Ginny told Tonks everything that had happened that night as well as her thoughts and impressions as she witnessed it.

"Interesting," Tonks murmured when the younger girl stopped.

"That's all?" McGonagall and Hermione were in bed together and all that got was an 'interesting!'

"They have gotten closer over the summer, and the Professor seems to be the only one that doesn't annoy Hermione these days."

"Oh." That made sense. "Can I stay tonight?" Tonks cocked and eyebrow. "I wanted to have a girl's night and Hermione's out."

"So I'm second choice," Tonks pouted.

"Never."

Caught off guard by the girl's serious demeanor, Tonks blushed. "You can stay." Ginny grinned a toothy smile before hugging Tonks tight. "Thank you." She snuggled under the covers of the bed, making herself comfortable, before turning to Tonks. "What have you been up to this summer?"

Tonks shook her head, laid down, and answered, "Getting things ready for Hogwarts."

Ginny moved so she could lay her head on Tonks shoulder. "What things?"

Tonks wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulder before starting to explain some of the precautions they were planning on taking.

~ooOoo~

Hermione was the first to wake the next morning. She smiled as she realized that sometime while sleeping she had ended up lying completely on top of Minerva. She giggled. The Professor made a really good pillow.

"What are you laughing at?" The Scottish brogue was husky from sleep.

Snuggling further into the warm body beneath her, she answered, "You should have become a pillow for a living and not a Professor."

Strong arms pulled her closer. "Really?"

Hermione rethought her previous statement. "On second thought, that's a bad idea. I would have to share."

Minerva laughed. Hermione snuggled closer loving the sound and how it made the older woman's chest rumble against her ear. "You are something else."

Unbidden the thought, _I'm your something else, _filled Hermione's mind. Feeling the truth and danger of those words, Hermione held the older woman tighter. She was going to take whatever she could get.

~ooOoo~

Down the hall, two other women were waking. Unlike the calm and gradual wake up of Hermione and Minerva, theirs was sudden... well, at least one of theirs was.

Tonks smiled as the redhead squealed underneath her tickling fingers.

"Tonks... stop." Ginny panted as she tried to wiggle away from the tortuous fingers.

"Why would I do a thing like that?" Tonks teased.

Gathering what little strength she had left, Ginny took an offensive approach. Without warning, she launched herself at Tonks. She laughed when Tonks yelped in surprise. For a moment, the tables were turned, until Tonks got her bearings back.

Tired and breathless, Tonks laid sprawled out on the bed. Ginny was half on, half off the bed. Both had huge grins on their faces.

"Well, that was an interesting way to wake up," Ginny stated.

"Is that your way of saying you liked it?" Tonks turned so she could look at the other woman.

"I plead the fifth." Grabbing a pillow, which had fallen on the ground during their struggle, Ginny swung it at Tonks.

"Hey!" Tonks protested to the laughing Ginny's back as the girl ran out of the room for safety. "Tricky little bit." Tonks grumbled as she made her way to her bathroom to get ready for the day. Privately, she wondered what the hell 'plead the fifth' meant.

~ooOoo~

That day, their Hogwarts' letters arrived with their breakfast. Hermione and Ron were made Head Girl and Head Boy. Harry was named Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain, and Ginny received a Perfects badge.

McGonagall was forced to interrupt Molly's happy squeals after five minutes had passed with no sign of the woman stopping. "You should go shopping for your school supplies. We do not have much time."

"How do we get what we need when Diagon Alley is being controlled by Death Eaters?" Ginny asked.

"Your school books will be provided by the school. Your parchment and quills may be bought from a specialist Muggle store as can your school robes. We will have to do the fitting ourselves. The Muggle way takes too long."

"How are we going to leave the Manor? Every one of us is wanted and Death Eaters are everywhere, in both worlds."

"Tonks can take another shape. As for the rest of us, I am not a Transfiguration Professor for nothing." She smirked.

~ooOoo~

"Did you know there was such a spell Hermione?" Ginny asked in wonder.

"No." Looking in the mirror they both saw two women they hardly recognized. One was a tall, lean redhead. Her hair cropped short showed eyes a light green where there once was grey-green. Broad shoulders tapered to a small waist gave the woman an athletic look. Her voice once light from youth was now deepened with age. The other woman stood a head shorter than the redhead. She was a curvy brunette with her hair reaching mid back. Soft, pale skin covered the subtle muscles that flexed as she clenched and unclenched her hands. Her voice was like a light melody and her eyes as dark as night. "I knew of no such thing."

"It is not commonly known Miss. Granger." A voice spoke from behind the two women.

"If we knew it, could we look like anyone we want?" Ginny excitedly asked. This had possibilities. Tonks wouldn't know what hit her.

"No, you can change your features to what they once were," McGonagall pointed to her dark hair, now missing the grey at her temples, "or what you are going to or could be." She gestured to the two women in front of her.

"But Hermione's eyes are black and mine are really green. They've never been like that before."

"Eyes darken and lighten with emotion Miss. Weasley. One of Miss. Granger's emotions darkens her eyes while one of yours lightens yours. All I did was to make them temporally permanent." Her voice was typical Professor McGonagall.

"Oh. Can we learn the spell any way?" It still had possibilities.

"If you want to devote your life to Transfiguration, you may just be able to do this in a couple decades."

"Ohh." Muttering under her breath, she walked out of the room leaving Hermione alone with the Professor.

"It's an interesting spell Professor."

"Indeed."

"'Mione, come here! You have got to see this." Ron shouted from down the hall from where the boys were 'changing.'

Giggling, Hermione headed for the door. She stopped, turned back to her Professor and asked, "How long will this last?" She motioned to their bodies.

"It will last until I lift the spell."

"Good." Noticing how the older woman tilted her head, Hermione explained, "I like the grey at your temples." She raised her hand to comb her fingers through the ebony locks.

"Hermione?" Instinctively, her hands came to rest on the younger woman's hips.

"But you know what I miss even more than your hair?" Minerva slightly shook her head no. Hermione moved her hand to run her thumb under a solid green eye. "Your eyes. These can't change. They hide you. I don't like not being able to see you. I need to see you."

Minerva pulled her closer. Leaning down she whispered into a small ear, "If anyone sees me, it is you whether you can see my eyes or not."

"It's harder though. You're eyes are so expressive." Hermione argued, resting her head against the dark head lying on her shoulder.

"I promise I will change them back as soon as I can."

"Hermione!" The shout sounded again.

Minerva pulled back. "You better go before Mr. Weasley has a coronary."

"Sometimes, I could strangle that boy." Hermione huffed causing a slight smile to form on thin lips.

"Hermione!" Said boy shouted again.

"I'm coming!" Hermione yelled back. Lowering her voice, she continued "Don't forget your promise, or I'll cast a Tarantallegra spell on you," Hermione warned.

Minerva laughed. "You just want to see me dance."

"Could be but I'll make sure I won't be the only one to see you moon walk if you forget your promise." Not giving the older woman time to counter, she left to go to her friends, laughing with every step.

~ooOoo~

"Why must we do this?" Ron whined. Out of all of them, he was the only one angry at his transformation. He had been looking forward to it after seeing Harry ten years older, but he lost his exuberance when he became ten years younger.

Most of the group tried not to laugh at the high pitched voice of the six year old Ron. The twins had no such quandary and let lose. "Is little Ronickans upset?"

"Does little bitty Ronickans want his mommy?"

"Shut up." Small arms crossed over a small chest, as his lower lip stuck out.

Gaining control of herself first, Tonks began to explain the plan. "We can't all travel together. We are more likely to be recognized that way." Everyone looked at the now 6' 5'', blonde haired, and blue eyed, male version of Tonks in disbelief. "Well, it will make _you_ more noticeable."

"What are we going to do, then?" Ginny asked.

"We'll travel in pairs."

"Awesome." The twins high-fived each other. "Muggle London here we come."

Tonks cleared her throat to grab their attention. "I hate to break it to you boys, but you won't be going together."

"What…"

"We go…

"Everywhere…"

"Together."

"Today you don't." Tonks was firm. "Now, the Professor and I have picked the pairs. They are based on what we need in town, our fighting ability, and our experience in the Muggle world."

The twins joined their younger brother in a good pout.

"George you're with Harry. He should be able to keep you in line or at the very least not join you in your mischief."

George smiled. "He has possibilities."

Harry looked fearfully at the twin. "Don't get me arrested or locked in a nut house George," Harry pleaded. The only answer he got was a mischievous smile.

"Ron you're with Arthur. It is more believable for you to be with an adult in the city, and it won't be so noticeable for Arthur to have to explain the Muggle devices to a six year old."

"Very good idea Tonks," Arthur complimented.

"Fred you're with Molly. I know you and George wanted to pick up some potion ingredients and what not. Molly needs to do the same so you two can pretend to be colleagues looking for office supplies."

"Sounds good Tonks," Molly agreed. This way she would be able to keep an eye on at least one of her trouble making sons.

"Ginny you're with me. I need new robes for school as well. It won't look too weird for a man to be shopping in the woman's section if they're with a girl."

"Glad to be of service Tonks," Ginny laughed. She still couldn't get over how different Tonks looked and sounded. She looked nothing like the woman who had woke her that morning by tickling her. Ginny corrected herself. The impish twinkle that was all Tonks was still in those blue eyes.

"Hermione you're with the Professor. The Professor and I figured you would want to go book shopping at some point. She's the only one who won't bug you while you're doing that."

"True." Hermione looked sideways to her Professor. The innocent look on the dignified face didn't fool her for a moment, but she wasn't about to complain about spending time alone with the older woman; though, the thought of any of her friends doing it made her smile. They were all a little spooked by the woman.

"Good, now that that is all cleared up, we can go." McGonagall turned to head to the fireplace.

Tonks' nervous stutter stopped her. "Actually Pro-Professor, there's one more thing."

Slowly, McGonagall turned around, lifting her eyebrow in a silent demand. "I-I was thinking, with Ron being so little no one will give him a second glance, but Harry and Hermione could still be recognized."

"And…" McGonagall drawled.

"And, I think it would be best to remain close to them."

"And…" McGonagall drawled.

Tonks wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. "I think it would be best for George and Harry and you and Hermione to pretend to be a couple."

"What?" Seven voices shouted.

"Couples, especially new ones, are always close together. It would be a good reason to explain why you are so close," Tonks hurriedly explained.

Hermione's laughter filled the room. Looking to the older woman, she said, "It's me or Harry."

Startled, green eyes widened. "I...you," McGonagall muttered.

"So Harry, Love" George asked breaking the uncomfortable silence that followed the Professor's words, "When do I get my ring?"

"I…ahh… I…" Harry stuttered through his blush.

"Hmmph… You aren't getting any until I get my ring," George stated, crossing his arms in finality.

"What a great idea George." Black eyes twinkled madly.

The very formidable, strict Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was left stuttering in indignation.

~ooOoo~

Harry's words proved to be prophetic. George had already got them kicked out of seven stores, chased by dogs, attacked by cats, and screamed at by an old lady with a humungous purse. Oh, how could he have forgotten? His shins were now black and blue because of an angry toddler.

George was having the time of his life. Currently, he was hard at work trying to find out how many licks it took to get to the center of a lollipop. Harry had stopped wondering, after the hundredth lick (all of which were being counted aloud), how George even knew of the Muggle advertisement.

~ooOoo~

Molly was proud of Fred. For once in his life, he was being a perfect angel. He even kept his hands firmly in his pockets while they were in the stores. She had no way of knowing that he had his wand was in his pocket. If she bothered to return to any store, she would have been met with chaos.

Faucets refused to turn off, toilets seemed to be holding conversations, an unusual amount of people were smacking themselves with doors, and children were happily munching on sugar candy unknown to their parents.

~ooOoo~

Why, oh why, did Muggles have to have so many types of rubber ducks. His dad was going crazy tying to figure out why some had red eyes and pointed teeth, why others were purple and green, and why some even moved on their own. There was even a duck with miniature spiders painted all over it. Ron gave it a ride berth.

~ooOoo~

Out of the corner of her eye, Tonks watched as Ginny gaped at her. After four blocks, she had had enough. "Are you going to stare the entire time?" Ginny shrugged. "This is going to get old fast," she sighed. Grabbing Ginny's forearm, she pulled her into a dimly lit alley.

Her fingers flicked Ginny's freckled nose as she snapped them. "Hey!" Ginny screeched, her hand covering her abused nose protectively. "What'd you do that for?"

"I had to do something. Your staring was drawing attention."

Ginny protested, "I wasn't staring."

"Where are we?"

"Fine! I was staring. You're a man," she defended.

"I am well aware of my male status." The extra parts were bloody uncomfortable. "Take in your fill," she ordered, as she slowly twirled.

When Tonks once again faced her, she lowered her eyes in apology. "I pulled a Ron didn't I?"

"'Pulled a Ron?'"

"I was being an idiot," Ginny explained.

Tonks fought her smile. "You shouldn't talk about your brother that way."

Ginny huffed, "You have met my brother haven't you?" He wasn't the brightest wand.

Tonks succumbed to her laughter. Ginny was totally serious.

Ginny smiled at the sight of a man well over 6' giggling. Giggles plus male was just wrong. Still laughing, Tonks pushed Ginny back on to the main street.

"How do you think the cat and worm are doing?" Ginny asked once Tonks caught her breath.

"They can't be doing any worse than us," Tonks answered.

Sharing a look, they broke down into laughter again. If the time before they flooed to town was anything to go by, the previous Head of Gryffindor was in _trouble_. "We'll buy her some Ginger Newts."

~ooOoo~

Stepping out of the floo, Minerva waited for Hermione.

"Stretch!" A cheery voice yelled, as long arms wrapped around the Professor. "Long time no see. How are you doing?"

Minerva stepped out of the way of the fireplace bringing her cheery friend with her. "I am doing well, Daphne."

"You look good too." Before any more could be said, the fireplace groaned and admitted a curvy brunette. "No matter how often I do that I can't get used to it," Hermione mumbled to herself, brushing off the soot from her clothes.

"Hey there beautiful. What's your name?" Daphne asked, sliding up to Hermione.

"I-I…uh…Professor." Hermione squeaked and ran to her Professor.

Daphne laughed.

"Excuse my friend here. She losses all sense of decorum in the presence of a beautiful woman," Minerva apologized.

Blushing, Hermione stuttered, "Oh…w-why w-would she w-with me?" She was smart. Many said the cleverest witch of her age. She was a bookworm, a know it all. She wasn't beautiful.

"You are beautiful."

Looking in her Professor's eyes, she tried to gauge the truth of her words but the spell made it impossible. Hanging her shoulders in defeat, she hung her head, whispering, "Of course Professor."

"Hermione," Minerva lifted Hermione's chin, "you are beautiful." Doubtful eyes met hers…searching, causing her to realize the problem. '_You're eyes are so expressive. I need to see you.'_

She reached inside her pocket for her wand. Holding it, she swished it and muttered a spell too quietly to hear. Before the brunette's and blonde's eyes, her eyes returned to their normal form. She clasped the younger girl's chin again, "You are beautiful."

Gazing into the now bright emerald eyes, Hermione blinked and blushed. Her Professor was telling the truth. Smiling she hugged Minerva, whispering in her ear "Can't you keep your eyes as they are?"

"I suppose." Without a thought, she kept her hands on Hermione's waist, unconsciously rubbing the small patch of skin that the shirt failed to cover in their current position. Looking at her friend, she said, "We will be no longer than three hours."

The blush that spread over Hermione's chest and covered her face at the intimate touch went unnoticed by the usually observant Professor but not by a smiling blonde. She couldn't be happier for her friend. Even if said friend was oblivious.

~ooOoo~

"Where are we going Jade?" It felt weird calling her that, but Minerva had said she could choose the names they would go by.

"To Inkies." She smiled, picturing Hermione's reaction when they reached the store.

"So, Daphne's a lesbian?" She tried to keep her voice nonchalant. She failed.

"She goes with the flow. The sex of a person is of no importance to her."

"Oh."

In the store, Hermione glanced around, taking in the odds and ends. "It's a Halloween shop."

"They will have the robes we need," Minerva innocently explained.

"How do you know about this place?"

"Daphne."A blush spread up her neck as she remembered why exactly Daphne had brought her there.

Seeing the blush, Hermione made a mental note to ask about the reason behind the blush later.

Seeing the look in inquisitive eyes, Minerva quickly suggested, "How about you go look for the robes you need, and I will see if they have anything else of use to us?"

"Okay."She was unhappy that her Professor headed to the other side of the store from where the robes were.

Sighing in exasperation, Hermione was just about to give up when a husky voice from behind her asked, "Do you need help?" Turning around she came face to face with a woman in her early twenties, short-cropped black hair, and very blue eyes. "I work here after all," she answered the silent question.

"I'm looking for a robe."

"We have many of those."

"So I see, but I just want a plain, ankle length black robe." She couldn't hide her exasperation. Take her to a book store and she could shop for hours, but take her to a clothing store and she was ready to go in five minutes. As of five minutes ago, she had passed her shopping limit by twenty-five minutes.

Reaching towards the rack, the clerk purred, "A sexy lady like you needs something more along the lines of this don't you think?" In her hand was a dark red silk robe. Long enough to reach an inch above the wearer's knees but slit up both sides to show a tantalizing piece of the wearer's skin. "You would cause heart attacks with this. It shows a bit of skin and a bit see through so you can show what you got without robbing the viewer of the pleasure of unwrapping you themselves," she leered.

The vision behind the clerk caused a smile to cross full lips. The clerk returned the smile thinking she had scored herself a date for the night. Her dream was shattered when someone cleared their throat behind her.

"Yes?" she asked with annoyance as she turned around. She gulped as she met cold green eyes.

"Is there a problem here Jean?" Minerva held out her hand.

Hermione clasped the offered hand and allowed herself to be pulled into the Muggle clad form of her Professor. "No, love." The endearment came easily to her lips. "She was just helping me find a robe."

"Really," Minerva drawled. "Since when do you need a robe like that?" She looked at the red robe in disdain.

Hermione laughed. With the way things were going, Minerva was going to have to fight off a lot lesbians. They seemed to be coming out of the wood works today.

"You never know." Hermione replied playfully. "It might be fun to change things up. Besides, I'm always being told to loosen up."

The older woman's jaw clinched. "That is a little too loose."

Goaded on by Hermione's 'agreement' the clerk spoke, "A lady wants what a lady wants. Who are we to try and stop her?"

Minerva glared. The clerk lost her smile. "Do you have any black robes in the back rooms?" Her tone was dangerous.

Feeling a power she couldn't explain radiating off the other woman, she barely managed to stutter, "I-I'll go check," before running for the back room.

When she couldn't see the clerk anymore, Hermione laid her head on her mentor's chest to stifle her laughter. "How do you do _that_?"

"Do what?" Idly, she twisted the brunette curls around her finger.

"How can you, even in the Muggle world, get people to jump to do your bidding?"

"Magic," Minerva joked.

The sells clerk cleared her throat to grab their attention. Eager to see these women gone, she practically shoved the robes into Minerva's arms. "Well these work?" The clerk addressed her question to the smaller of the two women. Better to be safe than sorry.

"Yes." Minerva snatched the robes and marched for the cashier. Hermione was protectively tucked under her arm.

"What about parchment and quills?"

"I have ordered some. They should come within the week."

"Okay."

Laying the robes on the table, so they could be ringed up, Minerva inquired, "Would you like to go to a book store? We still have an hour before we have to head back to Daphne's."

Hermione smirked. "Do you even have to ask?"

Minerva smiled. "There is a store just down the street."

Grabbing their bags, Minerva led the way out of the store. Hermione entangled her fingers with the older woman's free hand, as she followed her out of the store.

An hour later, Minerva dragged a reluctant Hermione out of the shop. With the bags full of books, it was a long walk back to Daphne's.

"You girls have fun?" The blonde had a knowing smile. She had watched, from her front window, as the two women approach her house. Despite all their luggage, Minerva still managed to keep her arm around Hermione.

"Yes," Minerva's answer was simple. Hermione remained quiet, standing slightly behind her Professor, still unsettled about what had happened earlier.

"Would you two like some tea?" Daphne led them back into the living room.

"We do not have time," Minerva regrettably declined.

"Maybe next time." Daphne walked over to the fireplace to grab the container that held the floo powder. She offered it up.

"You go first. I will follow," Minerva commanded.

"Okay," Hermione whispered. She grabbed a handful of the floo powder then headed for the fire place. She gave a small wave before shouting, "McGonagall Manor." In a flash, she was gone.

"Thank you for helping us."

"Anytime stretch."

Taking a hand full of the floo powder, Minerva headed for the fire place.

"Minerva," Daphne called.

Minerva turned at the sound of her name. "Yeah?"

"Be careful."

A smile crossed thin lips. "Always." She made her way to the fire place. Throwing the powder, she shouted, "McGonagall Manor."

Before she disappeared Daphne spoke one last time, "I'm happy for you."

Minerva did not have the time to make her confusion known before she appeared at her Manor.

* * *

><p><strong>Changes made:<strong>

Grammar again (still sucks).

Added a small snippet of every duos shopping trip.


	5. Anything but the Dog House

**Disclaimer: My name's not known around the world. Half the time, it's forgotten in my own house. Guess that means, I'm not J.K. Rowling. **

**Warning:** **Where's a rainbow when you need one? The lesbians are still stumbling along. **

**Edit: 23/10/2011**

* * *

><p>Ginny. She had to find out from Ginny. How did that girl even know? Did Minerva tell her? Hermione growled at the thought. She should have been the first to know. Angrily, she turned the volume up on her CD-player.<p>

The hesitant knock on her door went unnoticed.

On the other side of the door, Minerva sighed. She had royally screwed up. She knew she should have told Hermione sooner, but every time she was with Hermione it seemed like the wrong time, so she would postpone it for another day. She didn't plan for Ginny to spill the beans.

Gingerly, she cracked open the door. With how Hermione had been behaving lately, she wouldn't be surprised if the largest novel the girl had was chucked at her head. She thanked Merlin that Hermione was turned away from the door and seemed to be listening to that musical Muggle device. DC, she believed it was called.

With light steps, she approached the seething brunette. Though Hermione had never turned the full blunt of her anger on her, she had been witness to how volatile said anger was. She came to a stop a few inches behind the Muggle born who had yet to acknowledge her presence. Her teeth ground together. She knew Hermione was aware of her. The woman always was.

Taking the Hippogriff by the ears, she timidly snaked her arms around the small waist. Her chin tiredly fell against the narrow shoulders to the right of a damp cheek.

She had noticed as time passed, it had become increasingly difficult not to touch. She would even admit, if only to herself that holding the girl, especially at night, had become a necessity. The night of the sleepover had proven it. She had lasted an hour before she was pacing her room, two hours before she was pacing the third floor, three hours before she was pacing the second floor, and four hours before she was staring at Hermione's door as if it guarded the last morsel of food in a post-apocalyptic world.

Figuring it was time to face the music, she tugged the small bud out of the delicate air pressed against her cheek. "I am sorry you had to learn of my departure from Miss. Weasley. I was going to tell you."

"When you were walking out the door?"

"I have been trying to tell you for the greater portion of the summer. It never felt like the right time."

"What am I going to do?" Her body trembled against her mentor's. She wasn't ready for this yet. She hadn't had time to prepare.

"**We **will remain in contact until you join me next week at Hogwarts."

"How?" A small spark of hope ignited.

Her answer was smug, "I am Headmistress, with that comes privileges."

"Like?"

"Like," Minerva took the CD-player from Hermione's hand, "activating and deactivating some wards."

Hermione turned around to lock eyes with two mischievous emeralds. Her eyebrow lifted. What was Minerva talking about.

Minerva raised the CD-player. "This gave me the idea. Muggles have such interesting toys, but the wards do not usually allow them on school grounds."

Hermione watched as a calloused hand reached into a tartan pocket to pull out…she did a double take.

"You got a cell phone?"

"No, I got us both one," Minerva explained. "I have to go to Hogwarts to get everything prepared for the upcoming year. If I did not have to go or could send someone else I would, but I cannot. I did not like the idea of you not being able to contact me quickly, if needed. So, I spent the last three weeks trying to find a way for us to talk." Mocha eyes shined with gentle gratitude. "I figured owls are not possible because they would not be safe." Unspoken was the thought that owls would not permit her to hear the younger woman's voice. "Well, one night the answer came to me. Every year, I would hear Muggle born students saying it would be much easier to talk to their family and friends back home if they could use their cell phones."

"So you got us cell phones?" The last of her anger disappeared. She never expected Minerva to go to such lengths.

"Yes, I promise you I will always answer no matter the time of day or night." The dark head bowed. "Whenever you need to talk all you have to do is call."

Hermione's loving smile went unnoticed as the formidable witch stared at her shuffling feet. "I won't lie and say this is what I want." She grabbed the older woman's hand as the taller form tensed. "I've got used to talking to you every night and to waking up to you every morning. I want to fall asleep and wake in your arms, but seeing as I can't have that for a week, I'll take falling asleep and waking up to your voice." Hermione chuckled at her mentor's blush. "But, let me warn you, I'll probably call a lot, so be prepared for it."

A rare full smile graced thin lips causing Hermione's breath to hitch. "You will not be the only one." She handed the younger witch the cell phone. "I had the kid at the Muggle store program my number into your phone. It is your first speed dial." Hermione barely glanced at the phone before stuffing it in her pocket.

"Thank you," she whispered from the crook of her friend's neck.

"There is no need to thank me."

They comfortably stood in silence for a few minutes each trying to memorize the slightest detail of the other to last them the coming week.

"I'll miss you." Hermione fought hard to keep the tears from falling. She should have known she would lose. Her body tended to betray her when Minerva was around.

Feeling the tears sliding down her neck, Minerva tried to reassure,"I will miss you too, but that is not until tomorrow. We still have the rest of today and tonight." She placed a tender kiss to the wild mane beneath her chin while deceptively strong arms tightened their hold around her waist.

~ooOoo~

Not bothering to knock, Ginny burst through Tonks' door. The startled metamorphmagus pushed her lesson plan to the side when she saw her friend's horrified face.

"I think I screwed up," Ginny blurted. "I thought she knew," she defended. "How was I supposed to know McGonagall didn't tell her? The woman's leaving tomorrow."

"Ginny what happened?" Tonks kept her voice calm, handling the young woman like she would a frightened colt.

"Hermione and I were talking about the coming school year. You know? One thing led to another and I asked her what she was going to do with McGonagall gone this week. Turns out she didn't know McGonagall is leaving tomorrow. She stormed out of the room and right passed McGonagall who was in the hallway. McGonagall demanded to know what I said. She wasn't happy when I told her I let the cat out of the bag…. What if she hexes me?"

"McGonagall or Hermione?" Tonks laughed.

"This isn't funny!" Ginny screeched. She had seen what Hermione did to Umbridge.

Seeing the genuine panic on her friend's face, Tonks gathered her in her arms. "Everything will be all right. McGonagall will be too busy groveling for Hermione's forgiveness to do anything to you, and Hermione will be too busy being mad at McGonagall to do anything to you."

Ginny melted against the body holding hers. "What if you're wrong?" she whispered.

Tonks snickered. "Then I'll just have to protect you from the wicked witches."

~ooOoo~

**1****st**** of September**

"Get down here. You're going to miss the train!" Molly yelled up the stairs.

"We're coming!" Ron shouted from underneath his shirt.

Trunks wildly flew down the stairs followed by three disgruntled Hogwarts students. They had all slept in that morning, after spending the night before discussing the change in their friend's behavior. In the past week, Hermione had spiraled downward again. She was back to being a scary bitch, in Ron's words. The three were at a loss as how to help her.

The adults had failed to notice the regression so focused were they on the upcoming school year.

"You should be dressed Ronald," Molly scolded. "Where's Hermione?"

"I'm here, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione came down the stairs, fully dressed without a hair misplaced (as well as her wild mane allowed, at least), with her trunk obediently following behind her. The familiar flame behind her eyes, stoked by the thought of learning, was missing.

"Very good dear, these three could learn something from you." Leaving to go find her husband and Tonks, she threw over her shoulder, "I doubt the Headmistress would be happy that three of her Professors were late on the first day of a new term."

Mocha eyes flared.

Ginny made a note to tell Tonks. Her lists was growing.

~ooOoo~

Boarding the train, they searched for an empty compartment. They found one at the back of the train. Stowing their trunks, they took their seats. "Back to school we go," Ron sang with fake cheer.

Silence met his attempt to cheer the room.

Wanting to distract her thoughts from the Horcruxes, Hermione told the two redheads, "We need to start patrolling the train."

Apologizing to Harry, they followed the brunette out.

~ooOoo~

"Firs' years over hear. Firs' years." Seeing the four heading towards the Threstles, Hagrid shouted hello.

"Hello Hagrid," they shouted back.

Only one carriage had enough room for them. Politely, they greeted the sole occupant. "Hello Luna."

"Hello Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny," she dreamily greeted. Her blue eyes focused on the upside down _Quibbler_ in her hand. "The Old Ones are waking," she airily told them. Before they could question her or Hermione could form a good huff, their carriage stopped outside of Hogwarts' gates.

A serious Tonks was going through each student's belongings before allowing them entrance.

It was soon their turn. "I'm sorry, but rules are rules," Tonks apologized, as she searched each of their trunks.

Only Hermione (who had been told by McGonagall) and Ginny (who was told by Tonks) weren't surprised to see Tonks checking the students' luggage.

"You're clean." She waved them through. "See you in the Great Hall."

~ooOoo~

"Until next time." Luna left them to take her seat at the Ravenclaw table. The four Gryffindors, who were surprised to see McGonagall already at the Head table, slowly took their seats. They hadn't realized she would no longer do the sorting or be their Head of House.

If not her then who? They all wondered. Exchanging glances, they focused on the Great Hall's doors. Well, three of them did. Hermione's eyes slid back to McGonagall.

A bang brought the reluctant chocolate eyes to the door. They watched as the first years bustled in, followed by the motherly tones of one Molly Weasley. A muttered, "Oh no," brought a small smile to full lips. Glancing at the Head Table, the devious glint in emerald eyes caused her lips to form into a large grin and tore an immediate laugh from her throat.

"What's so funny?" Ron grumbled. "My mum's not only the Potion Professor, but she's going to be Head of Gryffindor. McGonagall must hate me."

Hermione briefly wondered why Flitwick wasn't doing the sorting. As Deputy Headmaster, it should have been his job.

"Really Ron this is for the best," Hermione reasoned.

"How?" There was no way having his _mum_ in school was for the best.

Leaning in so only Harry and Ron could hear her, she explained, "With your mum as the Head of Gryffindor, McGonagall as Headmistress, and your dad and Tonks as Professors they can cover for us when needed. The longer Voldemort is in the dark about our quest the better."

"Oh, right." Hermione rolled her eyes. The boy really needed to learn how to articulate.

The sorting went quickly. The numbers of first years had dwindled from the parents' fear and deaths. McGonagall's welcoming speech was somber as she talked of the past and all those who had lost their lives, positive when she introduced the new staff, and confident when she talked about the future…without Voldemort.

Within two hours, the Perfects, Head Boy and Head Girl led the first years to their House's tower.

The Headmistress went to her office to add the final touches to the arrangements she had made in the previous week.

~ooOoo~

Hermione had put off going to the Head Girl's tower for as long as she could, but when the clock struck midnight, she knew she couldn't put it off any longer. She said her goodbyes to her friends and made her way through the corridors.

She had dreamed of being Head Girl since first year, but tonight she hated it. Not only would she not have Minerva to keep the nightmares at bay, but now when she woke up, she would be completely alone, not even her fellow seventh years would be there to offer her a minor comfort with their presence.

So lost in her fear, she wasn't paying attention to where she was going. When strong arms wrapped around her to keep her from falling after she had walked right into the lanky body they were attached to, her thoughts were brought to the present and away from the unknown future.

"Are you alright?" Minerva asked in concern.

Hermione blushed. She hadn't been this close to Minerva in a week, and the first thing she did was plow in to the woman. "I'm fine."

"Is there a reason why you were not paying attention to where you are going?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. She didn't know how to voice her previous thoughts without sounding needy. Merlin knew, the older woman already had a lot to worry about.

The concerned whisper of, "Hermione?" broke the dam. Falling into old habits, Minerva pulled the younger woman into her when mocha eyes started to fill with tears.

"It's stupid," Hermione choked.

"Anything that can bring you to tears cannot be considered stupid."

Hermione smiled a watery smile. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Let me be the judge of that. Tell me what is wrong," Minerva ordered.

"I was on my way to the Head Girl's room, and it hit me. I would be alone. When I wake from a nightmare, no one will be there."

"You could have stayed in the Gryffindor tower with your classmates like Mr. Weasley chose."

"I know and that's why it's stupid. I decided to use the Head Girl's rooms so I didn't have to cast the usual spells around my bed." When Minerva didn't speak, Hermione continued, "Told you it was stupid."

Minerva pulled away. "Follow me Miss. Granger." Not waiting for a reply, she started to walk down the hall, the opposite way Hermione had been heading to before their encounter.

Hermione was confused by the sudden change in the older woman. Gone was the witch she had come to think of as a friend and in her place was the ever feared Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

Minerva stopped in front of a portrait of a forest that had a man Hermione had never seen before in it. Minerva, too distracted by her thoughts, didn't realize it was a different man than the usual Professor. Without waiting for a password, the portrait swung open. It was then that Hermione realized this was her Professor's private chambers.

The portrait opened to a cozy room that had a small fire lit. Directly across from the fireplace was a cotton sofa. In between the fireplace and couch set a coffee table. On both sides of the couch there were solitary cloth chairs. Lit candles were spread throughout the room in holsters on the wall.

When the portrait closed behind them Minerva spoke. "You should have came to me. You gave me your word that you would."

Hermione flashed back to the first morning they had woken together and the promise she had made the older woman. "It's different now," she argued.

"How are things different?"

"We're at school."

"And?"

Hermione looked at Minerva in confusion. Surly the older witch knew that changed everything? "And, I can't very well come to your room in the middle of the night and stay."

"Why not?" Minerva's face was blank.

"Why not?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "You know why not."

"I know no such thing." Her voice was as stoic as her face.

Angry, Hermione yelled, "Stop it! You know damn well why I can't stay."

Minerva's tone remained even and calm. "I know of no such reason." She walked toward the angrily panting witch. "You would do good to remember I made you a promise." She cupped a heated cheek. "I keep my word. I promised you would not be alone with your nightmares this year."

"But…how can..."

"I am Headmistress of a very unique school, a school with many secret passages. One of which, happens to connect a hidden passage behind a tapestry in the Head Girl's room to a door behind a portrait in my study here."

"Why would there be a passage?"

"Hogwarts is a living entity and much of its actions remain a mystery."

The real importance of Minerva's words seemed to suddenly hit Hermione. "Wait, the passage connects... that means... whenever…" Hermione trailed off.

"That means you can come here anytime you wish unnoticed." Her words garnered a large smile from the brunette.

"Yes!" Hermione hugged Minerva.

Minerva laughed at the younger one's ecstatic reaction. "I take it you are happy with this new development."

Joyful brown eyes rose to look at her. "Happy doesn't even begin to describe it."

Hearing the clock strike one, Minerva suggested they head for bed. Without another word, the two women fell into the routine they had developed during the summer. Minerva shrunk a pair of her pajamas to fit Hermione who then headed to the bathroom to change leaving Minerva to do the same.

Once in bed, they gravitated toward each other.

In between the realm of reality and dream, Hermione whispered, "I missed you."

Minerva's heart stopped for a moment at the pain in those words. Soothingly, she combed her fingers through the wild tresses. Her last words were an answering, "I missed you, too." The ache in her words was just as strong as Hermione's.

~ooOoo~

Neither woman bothered to move from their position when they awoke. Lazily, Hermione played with the collar of Minerva's night gown while the older woman traced circles on her back.

"So," Minerva broke the silence, "do you agree you have no need to worry about your nights any longer?"

"Yes." Her thought, _until you are no longer here_, remained unspoken.

"Good." They laid in companionable silence.

When an hour had passed, Minerva regrettably spoke, "We need to get up. Breakfast is going to start soon."

They both reluctantly rose. Without thought, the older woman tangled their hands together as she led Hermione to her study."It is a straight shot."

When Hermione failed to move, Minerva pulled her into a hug. "I will see you at breakfast." She decided to not tell Hermione what her first class would be, hoping the surprise would cheer her up.

Hermione only nodded against her chest before pulling away and entering the hidden corridor. Minerva watched the slumped figure until she could no longer see or hear her.

She left her study to go get ready for the day, silently promising to find out what was troubling the girl.

~ooOoo~

It was a happier Hermione who walked into double transfiguration first thing after breakfast. The fact that she would spend every Monday morning with her favorite person for two hours had considerably lifted her spirits and pushed the thought that she wouldn't always have the older woman with her to the back of her mind.

So happy was she, the fact that the Slytherins made up the other half of the class didn't bother her one bit. The same could not be said for the boys on the other hand. They had not stopped complaining about it since they got their schedules.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, is there something you would like to share with the class?" Professor McGonagall's strong brogue halted their grumblings.

"No, Professor," both boys answered.

"You both will do well to remember I do not allow frivolous talking in my classroom."

"Yes, Professor." Their cheeks flamed.

"Now, as I was saying, we will be learning about human transfiguration this year." Excited chatter filled the room, at her announcement. She allowed it for a moment, before speaking, "In order to do so, you must understand the concept behind such a change. You have the rest of class to read and summarize the first three chapters. I expect more than a frivolous piece of dung."

Her lips gave the smallest of curls as her class groaned. "You will not often have class time to work on the things I assign you."

She took her seat behind her desk, watching as her class took out their text books and paper. Her eyes, as they were wonted to do, came to rest on Hermione. She had a feeling the girl would already know everything the three assigned chapters offered, even if, she only got the book this morning with her class schedule.

* * *

><p><strong>Changes made:<strong>

**Grammar and dialogue, just to smooth things a bit. **

**Made Hermione's anger at McGonagall, about not telling her that she was leaving, more obvious. Hermione is one to be feared. Just wait 'till later when she really loses control.**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: If I remember right at the time Harry Potter took place, cell phones were quite large, and I'm not sure if they had speed dial. For the purpose of this story though, we are going to pretend they are a little more modernized. **


	6. Let the Hunt Begin

**Disclaimer: I'm not British. I'm not blonde. **

**Warning: If I was you, I wouldn't be worried about the lesbians that are in the making. I'd be worrying about two certain somebodies; they're just disturbing with their grunting and moaning. **

**Edit: 23/10/2011**

* * *

><p>A month filled with classes, books, and studying passed for Hermione. Even with the added Horcrux research, it was fairly mundane. That all changed on a Saturday morning.<p>

She had been eating her breakfast, like every other day, when the owl post flew in. A copy of the _Daily Prophet_ was dropped by an unknown owl. Swallowing her current bite, she wiped her hands on a napkin and reached for the paper. She was the only one who still read it. Her friends had written it off as hogwash. Her eyes skimmed over the black, blocked letters: another rubbish story about Harry, another failed raid. It wasn't until she flipped to the sixth page that something truly caught her eye. Originally, she stopped on the article for carious amusement. She wondered what the next outlandish step Dolores Umbridge and Gilderoy Lockhart had planned for their wedding. Her amusement was forgotten when she spotted the necklace around Umbridge's neck. Her hands shook from excitement.

"Hermione?" Harry asked worried, when he noticed his friend's shaking hands. "What's wrong?"

Hermione rolled the newspaper up and stood. "We need to talk." She turned on her heel and marched off.

Harry grabbed a eating Ron and followed Hermione to the Room of Requirements.

"What's the meaning of this? I was eating," Ron demanded. His stomach was growling with hunger. If he didn't feed it soon, it would make his life Hell.

Hermione threw the newspaper on the table and pointed to the pictures of Umbridge and Lockhart.

"You made me leave perfectly good food behind so you could show me a wedding announcement."

"Look," Hermione ordered.

The boys looked. "You're still not pinning over that git, are you?"

"I was never pinning over him Ronald."

Ron snorted, "Sure."

Deciding it would be a wasted effort trying to explain to Ron about second year, she continued, "I wasn't pointing at Lockhart. I was pointing at Umbridge. Look at her neck."

"The toad doesn't have a neck. It's just rolls."

"The necklace," Hermione snarled. He really couldn't be that idiotic.

Harry on the other hand understood."It's Slytherin's locket."

"Oh." He could of figured that out, if they gave him more time.

The Golden Trio wasn't seen by any for the rest of the day.

~ooOoo~

In theory, it should have been easy to sneak out of school, sneak into the hospital, steal the locket, and sneak back into school, before anyone even noticed they were gone.

Harry had used his cloak to join Hermione and Ron on their nightly patrol. Unlike the previous nights, their patrol ended at the gates of Hogwarts.

Harry and Ron were astonished to see the great gates open without resistance.

Shaking her head at her gaping friends, Hermione explained, "We are all of age. The school cannot keep us here. Really, you two need to read _Hogwarts, A History_."

"We'll get right on that," Ron mumbled. _Right after I become a fairy_, he finished silently.

When they were far enough from the school to apparate, Hermione and Ron grabbed on to Harry who was the most experienced. They landed in an alley across from St. Mungo's.

Hermione's advanced studying came in handy as they wandered through the hospital. It took them mere minutes to make their way to the mental ward. With a few flicks of Hermione's wand, they were allowed entrance.

In order to search faster, they parted ways. Harry took the far doors, Ron took the middle doors, and Hermione took the ones closest.

Ron was the unlucky winner of having the displeasure of finding Umbridge.

"My eyes!" he yelled, covering them with his large hands. He stumbled backward, tripping over his large feet. "Kill me."

Harry and Hermione ran to their friend's side, worried that the door had been cursed.

"Ron what happened?" Harry questioned, his hand squeezing his friend's shoulder in support.

The bright red, redhead pointed to the door and stammered, "Th-they we-were and I-I saw-saw."

"What?" Harry asked. He hadn't seen Ron in this kind of state since the spiders in second year.

Knowing how long it could take for Ron to get control of himself, Hermione cautiously approached the door. Peeking through the small window, she laughed at the sight that met her. "Ron is fine Harry. He just saw a little more of Umbridge and Lockhart than anyone would want to."

"How can you laugh? They're naked and touching," Ron stammered. Through a small slit in his fingers, he looked at the bookworm with disbelief.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "It's a part of life." _An ugly part, but a part._

Ron put his metaphorical foot down."I'm not going in there."

She sighed. Weren't boys supposed to be the tough ones? "I'll take care of it."

Girding her loins, she blew the door open, and marched in. She was disgusted to realize the two lovers didn't hear her over their moans. Promising her body a good scrub, she yanked the chain off Umbridge's fat neck. She hissed when her hand brushed against the bare skin. She would need a Brillo pad when she returned to Hogwarts.

"Let's go before they finish."

Wide eyed, the boys followed her out of the hospital.

"Get us out of here Harry." She stuffed the locket into her front pocket.

"Sure thing, Hermione."

The trek to the school gates was silent and slow. All three of them were exhausted after a long day.

In theory and in practice, their plan had been easy to carry out except for one small detail. None had planned for the Headmistress being notified of their departure by the school.

The large iron gate swung open to reveal a very pissed Headmistress. "Follow me."

Scared, the boys followed.

Worried Hermione followed. The older woman was strung as tight as a bow. She had never seen Minerva so mad before. That wasn't what worried her, though. What worried her was the thing she knew the boys wouldn't be able to see. There was fear in those expressive emerald eyes.

The air was thick with tension as the stairs to McGonagall's office spun them up. It was discerning to be in such close quarters with a pissed McGonagall.

The Headmistress sat and motioned for the others to do the same.

The chairs squeaked beneath them as they all fidgeted under the stare of McGonagall. Harry thought she may be trying to set a record for going the longest time for not blinking.

"We had to leave," Harry couldn't take it anymore. The woman was worse than Dumbledore. "It has to do with the mission Dumbledore gave us. We had to leave tonight, or we could have lost our chance."

"What you three did was irresponsible," she hissed.

"But…"

"Shut up, Mr. Potter. You three left the protected grounds of Hogwarts to go gallivanting off for whatever reason."

"We had to," Harry argued.

"What if the school did not tell me you three had left of your own free will? Do you know the panic the absence of you three would cause? What if one of you or all of you had gotten hurt? No one would have been able to help you."

She stopped there. Standing, she opened the office door and motioned for them to get out. Her voice chased them down the stairs. "It is one thing to die for a cause. It is another to die for stupidity," with that, she slammed the door closed.

~ooOoo~

Hermione left her friends at the Gryffindor common room and moved on to the Head Girl's rooms. It would be the first night she slept there. After that night, she didn't think Minerva would want her in her personal chambers. She knew she had screwed up. Minerva deserved to know that they were leaving. It wasn't like the Headmistress would have forbid them to go. She wouldn't have liked it, but she wouldn't have forbid it.

The idea of being so close to finding a Horcrux tainted her judgment which may have cost her the one person that made her life bearable.

She swiped away at the trails of tears that had formed from the corners of her eyes to run down her cheeks to her pillow. The memory of cold emeralds was burned into her retinas.

Lost in her self-discrimination, she didn't hear her bedroom door open nor did she hear the light footsteps that were heading for her bed. However, she did take notice of how her bed dipped under another's weight and the strong arms that pulled her against a warm body. Gentle hands cradled her head against the chest that housed the marvelous heartbeat.

"I'm sorry. Don't hate me," she begged.

Protective arms held her tighter. "I could never hate you." In between whispered words of comfort, thin lips pressed against the wild mane. She didn't pull back until the tears that were soaking through her shirt stopped. Tenderly, she wiped away the last remnants of tears from beneath red and puffy eyes. "Do not ever scare me like that again."

"I will do everything in my power not to scare you like that again," she gravely promised.

Minerva kicked of her boots and settled herself comfortably on the bed. She was hurt when Hermione refused to return to her arms. The young witch had never denied her. Hermione was the one who usually initiated everything.

Mocha eyes devoured every detail they could about the older witch. Small hands began to unbutton the soft shirt of the other woman. She parted the shirt enough to have an unobstructed view of the three puckered scars that littered Minerva's chest.

Minerva remained completely still. This was bringing things to a whole new level.

"Hermione?" she croaked, her hands falling to the girl's sides. How did she go from being spitting mad at the Muggle born to laying beneath the girl as Hermione pressed her lips against her scars? "Hermione?" she tried again.

Warm breath ghosted over her sensitive ear. "I love you tabby."

Minerva's shock kept her immobile, as Hermione took up a position on top of her using her chest as a pillow.

Her mother had been the last to call her tabby.

~ooOoo~

Minerva was the first to wake. Hermione followed soon after.

It was easy to see that in the light of day, Hermione was unsure of the reaction her actions from last night would be.

"Good morning," Hermione whispered, shyly tucking an unruly curl behind her ear.

"Good morning. Did you find what you needed last night?" Sometimes, it was best not to dwell on things like what happened the previous night.

"Yes," she stuttered to a stop when long fingers re-tucked the escaped curl behind her ear. "We found a part of it. There is more out there."

"So you will have to leave again," Minerva stated.

"Yes, we will."

"If you need any help, you know where I am." Left unsaid was that she expected to be notified of the trio's next departure.

"I know... If I could tell you, I would."

The witch's fingers lingered on Hermione's cheek. "I know you would."

Hermione laid back down. If Minerva had a problem being used as a pillow then she would say something.

~ooOoo~

The boys were already in the Great Hall eating breakfast when Hermione finally came down.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked. She was usually the first one down, with book in hand.

"I was sleeping. I had a long night."

"Do you have it?" Ron's question reveled half-eaten sausages.

"Yes. We'll talk about it later though." She turned to her food. She was strangely hungry.

Later turned out to be an hour. They met in the Room of Requirements where the locket was passed between them. Hermione shot down each of their ideas as her brain turned the problem over and over.

"Harry," Hermione asked, "how was Dumbledore going to destroy it?"

Harry's eyes were locked on the locket as the silver chain slid threw his fingers. "I don't know. Whatever he was going to use was in his office. That's where we were heading when Hogwarts was attacked."

Hermione's thought wandered to the Headmaster's office. It had been full of all different kinds of gadgets that she had no clue about. They spun, changed colors, and some even talked, but how could they destroy a Horcrux?

McGonagall had changed the office a lot in her tenor. She wasn't one for clutter. As a matter of fact the only things she kept were the portraits on the wall, the furniture, the books, and… "The sword!" Hermione suddenly shouted.

"What?" Both boys looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Gryffindor's sword. it would be able to destroy the Horcrux. It was forged by Goblins. Goblin made weapons absorb that which make it stronger. When Harry used it to kill the basilisk, it would have absorbed the venom."

"So?" He wondered if it was lunch time.

"Soo," Hermione drawled, "Harry proved in second year that basilisk venom can destroy a Horcrux when he used the fang to destroy Riddle's diary."

"Why don't we just use the basilisk fang again?" Harry couldn't believe he had forgotten about the basilisk. They spent all summer trying to find a way to destroy the Horcruxes when they found them, and he had the answer the whole time.

"It's not safe to be messing around with basilisk venom, if you're not properly trained. The sword is the safer bet. Besides, the castle may inform McGonagall if we were went into the chamber, and I don't think she would be too happy about that."

"How do we get the sword?" Ron asked.

"We ask McGonagall."

"Have you lost your bloody mind? She would never give us Gordric Gryffindor's sword." He turned to Harry for support. "She'd probably take points from Gryffindor for just asking."

"I hate to say it Hermione, but Ron has a point. She'll never give us the sword." Too bad, it wasn't still in the hat. It would be easy work for three Gryffindors to pull it out of the hat than to talk McGonagall into handing it over.

"I'm going to ask her."

Both boys knew what that stubborn set of her jaw meant. They kept silent as she stormed out of the room. When the door closed behind her, their eyes fell to the locket. It was mind boggling to the boys that an everyday item like a locket could hold such evil.

Hermione knew if she explained things Minerva would let her borrow the sword. Even if she couldn't say exactly why she needed it, the Headmistress would be able to deduce that it was to end the rein of Voldemort.

The Gargoyle that guarded the Headmistress's office internally smirked as it watched the small power house coming its way. It swung to the side as the hurried witch gave the password; it was an outdated password, but it figured that the Headmistress would be more upset if it barred the way for this particular student.

Hermione rapt on the solid door, the skin on her hand slightly reddening.

"Come in," Minerva's distinctive voice surrounded her.

Eyes alight with her discovery, Hermione pushed the door open, only to come to a sudden stop. Minerva wasn't alone.

In one of the chairs across from the Headmistress's desk, there was a woman whose hair rivaled the Weasleys. Though it was hard to tell with her sitting position, the woman looked to be tall with a slight build.

"Miss. Granger, how may I help you?"

Hermione's eyes darted between the Headmistress and the unknown woman. She hadn't planned to ask for the sword in front of someone else. It was the reason she hadn't forced the boys to come. She didn't know how the older witch would react if they had an audience.

"Miss. Granger?" Hermione focused on the steady emerald eyes and ignored the inquisitive steel blue she could feel burning into her.

"I need Gryffindor's sword." She didn't have time to wait until Minerva was alone. Every second that locket was near her or the boys, it tainted them.

"Excuse me?" _Why could things with Hermione never be simple? _

"I need Gryffindor's sword," Hermione repeated.

"Why?"

"To destroy something," she hedged. This would be so much easier if Harry would allow her to tell Minerva everything. The skilled witch would be a great resource... not to mention comfort.

"That explains everything."

Hermione could see the refusal forming in emerald eyes.

She sent a silent prayer to those above that she was about to do the right thing. "_Minerva_," she stressed, knowing she had never knowingly used her Christian name in front of another. "I need the sword."

Her body shook under the intense stare of the other woman. Times like this, she wished Dumbledore was alive. He was a lot less intimidating.

Silently, Minerva walked to the sword. Respectively, she took it down from its place of honor and solemnly looked at Hermione. "I trust you will be the only one to use this."

"I promise." She would not let the boys so much as look at it if that is what it took to get the sword.

"You are to return it to me after you are done."

"I promise."

McGonagall carefully handed the sword over.

Reverently, Hermione grasped the hilt. Its coldness quickly warmed in her hand. Briefly, her eyes flared as gold as the Gryffindor crest. Unconsciously, she stood up straighter with a roguish grin.

The unknown woman tensed as unknown magic flicked against her skin. Drawing her wand, she stood up and faced the student Minerva had called Granger.

Hermione's hand tightened on the familiar hilt, her muscles wonderfully contracting to lift the sword.

The two unknown foes faced each other, ready for battle.

Minerva stepped between the two women. The last thing she needed was for there to be a blood bath in her office. She had the distinct feeling it wouldn't be Hermione's blood that would be spilled.

Minerva lowered her friend's wand, ignoring the scowl that her actions caused.

She turned her attention to the bigger threat. "Hermione?" It worried her how Hermione seemed to look through her. "Hermione?" A relieved sigh escaped as mocha eyes softened.

"Yes?" Hermione's voice was lower than normal, almost a lazy purr.

"Are you alright?" She stepped closer. She was tempted to reach for the sword but quickly dismissed that idea when Hermione moved the sword to her left hand. The deadly metal looked at home in her hands.

"Hermione?" she questioned as a delicate hand reached for her. "Hermione what are you..." her words trailed off when the small hand came to rest on her chest above her heart.

Hermione stepped closer. Her eyes glazed over as her head tilted to listen to something no one else could hear. She moved to unbutton the shirt that was covering the skin of her friend.

"Stand down young one. It is neither the time nor the place," a musical voice spoke from behind her.

Hermione glowered at the portrait that had spoken. Her hand clutched possessively at Minerva's shirt. "She is..."

"I know young one, but you must wait."

"I do not want to wait," Hermione growled. The muscles in her forearm that held the sword bunched. A portrait could be easily destroyed.

"The question is not a matter of time but a matter of readiness. You are not strong enough." His dark eyes bore into her.

She slowly relaxed, finally recognizing him as a friend not a foe. "Until then?" She sought his guidance.

"You make yourself worthy. Do not allow the darkness you are surrounded by to consume you. Go now young one. It is time for you to begin your journey."

Hermione submitted to his wisdom and reluctantly left the office with sword in hand.

Two confused women turned their attention to the portrait who had spoken. A tall, lean ageless man gazed back at them. An ancient soul shined from his sable eyes.

"Who are you?" McGonagall inquired. He seemed familiar.

He smiled a crooked smile. "I am a friend." His voice was like a gentle breeze rustling through a grove of trees. "I am family." With those last words, he left the painting and went to parts unknown.

"Is it always so interesting here Minerva?" The redhead asked her old friend.

"Not always. Sometimes, it is even more so Emily," Minerva replied. What a way to make an impression.

"If so, I have a feeling I will greatly enjoy teaching here."

"Either way, it will be an experience you will not easily forget."

With knowledge that only came from time, the two friends silently agreed to not to discuss earlier events.

They sat to return to their tea.

~ooOoo~

Late that night when Hermione prowled through the secret passage to Minerva's chambers, she carried the sword with her.

She had destroyed the Horcrux then returned to her private room. In silence, she had reclined on her bed, the sword lying across her crossed legs. Her eyes had traced the blade, lovingly taking in every detail. Images, that were hard to grasp, reflected off the well kept blade. Unknowingly, hours had passed before she was fully returned to the world.

She thought of allowing herself to become lost again in the blade, but she reminded herself what awaited her.

She donned her pajamas and begun the familiar hike to Minerva's chambers.

Minerva was waiting for her in the study.

She laid the sword on the desk in front of the ebony haired witch. "I know you have questions, but may they wait? I wish to go to bed."

"Of course." It was easy to see how wary the younger woman was. "Bed sounds like a fantastic idea."

Once in her chambers, Minerva grabbed her night clothes and headed to the bathroom to change. When she returned, mocha eyes saddened before her. "What is wrong?"

Reaching out, Hermione tugged on the collar of her shirt.

Unhindered, images of the previous night formed: the way trembling hands had unbuttoned her shirt, the way Hermione had brushed against the uncovered skin of her chest.

Those same hands traveled to the hem of her shirt and demanded its removal. Stunned, she allowed it.

Steady hands traced the sensitive skin of her scars. Full lips briefly followed before moving away.

Mutely, she obeyed the silent command and allowed herself to be pushed onto her bed. She didn't hesitate to pull Hermione to her when the young woman had a short bout of doubt.

Hermione quickly feel asleep to the strong beat against her ear.

Minerva lay awake. She was lying in bed partially naked with a student. If Albus could see her now, he would be laughing his jolly arse off. Smiling, she allowed Morpheus to claim her.

Maybe this was the next great adventure.

~ooOoo~

Hermione kept her eyes closed, greedily soaking up the feel of Minerva's arms around her. There was something different this morning. Before yesterday, she had thought that Minerva's presence was what stopped the nightmares, but after time with the sword, she discovered she was wrong. Minerva didn't stop the nightmares. The lack of Minerva caused them.

How could she have missed it?

The nightmares had always been worse over the summer, when she didn't see Minerva every day. They had begun to become unbearable after fifth year when she realized Minerva could have easily have been killed by that damn toad.

The sword wouldn't tell her why, but she knew Minerva McGonagall had become a necessity.

She opened her eyes as gentle fingers rubbed the furrow between her brows.

"What has you thinking so hard, so early in the morning?"

Hermione shrugged and nestled against the older woman's neck, discretely inhaling the spicy scent. "Stuff."

"Very eloquent, Hermione." She tucked a brunette lock behind a small ear. "Will you tell me what happened yesterday with the sword?" She had not missed how mocha eyes had flared gold. She only hoped Emily did.

"It was weird. I felt funny when I touched the sword. After I broke the thing I needed to, I went to my room." She hesitated, unsure how to voice her hectic thoughts. "There were flashes of things. I don't really remember much. I know that they're still in my head, but I think it will be a while before I fully understand them."

"Is there anything you can remember about the flashes?" Her voice was soothing, just like her soft touch against Hermione's ear.

"Wind."

"Wind?"

"There was wind underneath me. It felt like I was flying. It was amazing." Which was weird because she hated flying on brooms.

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah..."

Silence reigned for a while.

"In my office, when you were talking to the man in the portrait you were about to call me something before you suddenly stopped. What were you about to say?" That question had been in the forefront of her mind. She looked at the girl curiously as the ear beneath her fingers grew warm. "Hermione?"

She sheepishly looked up. "May we table that discussion for another day? I don't completely understand it myself."

"Very well." She mentally added this to her ever growing list of things to talk about later.

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><p><strong>Changes Made:<strong>

Grammar and such.

I picked on Ron a little more this go 'round. It wasn't too bad though. Don't worry though. I'm not going to completely annihilate him. His relationship with Hermione is more of the annoying little brother.

Tried to explain why they didn't use the Basilisk to destroy the Horcrux. Didn't realize, until I was revising, that I left that hole. Hopefully, that is gone now.

I tried to explain why Hermione was willing to ask for the Sword in front of another. Since, I failed to last time. If I failed again, it's because in a way the Horcrux is pushing her. She can feel the evilness of it, but instead of succumbing to it completely, it's just making her short tempered. Hence why she didn't have the patience to wait until Minerva was alone.

Hermione's still more prickly than before. Have to lay the stepping stones for when she really goes batty.


	7. Trick or Treat

**Disclaimer: I'm too poor to own this. The blonde billionaire on the other hand isn't. **

**Warning:** **The women of this story are working on getting frisky with each other. **

**Excuse for the Humungous Delay: Real Life has a way of kicking your ass, dragging you into a ditch, and pissing on you. **

**A/N: So during my absence, I went back and edited the previous chapters. I figured a lot of you don't even remember what this story is about, so you'd probably skim it again. What better time to do a spit and shine? You don't have to re-read it though. At the end of each chapter, I created a 'Changes Made' section. So, you can just skim that.**

**A/N: Thanks to those who kept reviewing in my absence. I'm sorry for not replying, but I did enjoy them.**

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><p>In a secret room away from prying eyes, four very different but good friends relaxed.<p>

A shock of black and a shock of red were pressed close together as two boys fought a violent battle on a chess bored.

On the other side of the room, another shock of red and a shock of brown were bent over separate books.

Out of these four teenagers, only one was seriously doing what they were pretending to do. The other three were slyly exchanging glances trying to goad their friends into raising the topic.

It was the redheaded girl who caved first. Shooting death glares at the two boys, Ginny tossed her Quidditch book to the side and nervously cleared her throat. "Hermione?"

Hermione tenderly flipped another page. "Yes?"

The young Quidditch player rubbed the back of her neck. "You talk to McGonagall right?"

Her eyes stayed focused on the book. "You I know I do."

"Do you think you could ask her something?"

She sighed. She should have went to the library. Sliding her book mark in to place, she softly closed her book."Ask her what?" Her fingers caressed the worn spine.

"We were thinking." She made sure to include her brother and Harry. There was no way she was taking the fall by herself. "It's been a while since we've all gotten together. Mom, dad, Tonks, the twins, McGonagall, and us, I mean. We were thinking, it might be fun if we all got together on Halloween here in the Room of Requirements. We thought maybe you could ask McGonagall to let the twins come to the school after curfew. We could all come here and hang out," Ginny gushed.

"And you can't ask McGonagall yourself?" Hermione teased.

"Nope," Ginny easily supplied. "I am mature enough to admit, she scares me." _I also know after this summer there isn't much that woman wouldn't do for you, my friend_.

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. It was easy for her to forget the effect Minerva had on others. "I'll ask her."

All three sighed in relief. It was impossible to tell how Hermione would react to something.

Hermione turned back to her book while her friends made plans for their private Halloween bash.

~ooOoo~

Later that night as they reclined in front of the fire in Minerva's personal chambers, Hermione mentioned her friend's request to the reading woman. "Minerva?"

Minerva tenderly flipped another page. "Yes?"

"Ginny asked me to ask you something."

Her eyes stayed focused on the book. "Why could Miss. Weasley not ask me herself?"

Hermione smirked. "You intimidate her."

Sliding her book mark into place, she softly closed her book and focused on the woman who was using her lap as a pillow. "Really? If I may ask, how do I do that?"

"By breathing."

"I will work on that."

Hermione giggled. "I'll tell her. She'll be thrilled to learn she has such an influence with the Great McGonagall."

Minerva huffed. "What is it you, or rather Miss. Weasley, want to ask me?"

"Are you a boxers or briefs kinda girl?"

"Neither," she deadpanned.

Hermione was tempted to ask if that meant she preferred commando. She decided it was best not to have that picture in her head. "Gin wanted to know if you would allow the twins to come to Hogwarts on Halloween night so that the Order can have its own celebration in the Room of Requirements."

"That is asking a lot."

"Isn't it better to have them here where you can watch them instead of home alone at your Manor?"

"I expect for the twins to behave themselves. No pranks and no damage to the school or anyone or anything in the school."

Hermione squealed. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." She squeezed Minerva tightly while kissing her cheek. "I'll watch them like a hawk."

"I will hold you to that."

Slightly panting, Hermione laid back down. Her eyes shined with pleasure. "Thank you."

Minerva brushed an unruly curl off her friend's flushed forehead. "Do not thank me until we have both survived the Halloween celebration unscathed."

Hermione nodded then shyly requested, "Would you read aloud?"

"You wish to listen to the effects of rain water on transfigured plants?"

"Yep." She could care less what Minerva was reading as long as she got to listen to the Scottish brogue.

"Very well," Minerva stated dubiously. "Are you comfortable?"

"One moment."

Minerva watched with amusement as Hermione wiggled searching for that allusive comfort. She chuckled as mocha eyes grew heavy with lazy contentment. There were times when she believed the younger witch to be the cat animagus.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

The times that Hermione practically purred just added to her belief.

~ooOoo~

The room was decked out with banners, frights, goals, and screams.

Hermione had already had to stop the twins from spiking Ron and Harry's drinks, from spelling Ginny's pants, and cursing Tonks' book. She still couldn't figure out the obsession with that book.

The party was in full swing when Hermione noticed the door. She looked around and realized that no one else seemed to notice it.

Figuring no one would miss her, she walked to the door. It opened into a dark corridor when she approached. She looked over her shoulder, before stepping into the welcoming darkness. Time grew unimportant with each step.

On and on she walked, never halting. What could have been seconds, hours, or days later, she reached a field. The sky was a crisp blue like it had never had the displeasure of meeting a cloud. The grass was as green as a certain witch's eyes. In the distance, a lake sparkled like diamonds from the warm touch of the sun. A lone bird begun to sing a soothing, hopeful melody.

There was a sense of peace, of rightness, about the area. She felt that she belonged there.

Her eyes closed as another melody reached her ears. It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. It raged through her, demanding her full attention.

She knew that sound.

She craved that sound.

"Minerva," she purred.

Her eyes opened as she turned to the older woman. Now, the place was truly perfection.

"Hermione."

In this place, there was no fear.

She ran to her friend and threw herself into the woman's arms. She was pleased to realize, Minerva's scent was more primal. Here, there was nothing but the uniqueness of Minerva that coated her skin.

Minerva pulled the younger woman tightly against her, burrowing her nose into the woman's wild mane. Her own body rattled with purrs as lips touched her neck.

Hermione tore away the collar of the older witch's robe. She latched onto the pale skin that covered the pounding pulse of her mentor. Possessively, she nipped at the sensitive flesh, soothing the irritated skin with her tongue while long fingers threaded through her hair, pulling her closer.

Minerva's free hand pulled Hermione closer. Nothing had ever felt like this.

"MOM! DAD!"

Hermione growled as the frantic shouts of Ginny shattered her oasis. She was so damn close.

"I'm going to be sick." Ron's voice followed his sister's.

Exasperated eyes met as the witches reluctantly pulled apart.

"You can't do that!" Ginny screeched.

"I suppose we should go see what all the commotion is about," Minerva suggested.

Hermione nodded as she reached up to readjust Minerva's collar. "I don't think we have a choice. The Weasleys aren't exactly known for their good temperament, especially the younger two."

"Indeed." She tucked an unruly hair behind a small ear. Hermione leaned into the touch, before grabbing the roughened hand and tangling their fingers.

"Do what?" They heard Arthur demand.

"Make out like a couple of teenagers."

The two women smiled before releasing the others' hand. Immediately, they felt the loss. Sadly though, they had a duty to the people on the other side of the door.

They listened as Molly vehemently disagreed. "The Hell we can't."

Hermione grimaced when she walked into the room to see Molly pulling Arthur's head down to passionately kiss him. There were some things that you should not witness.

The room was silent except for the smacking of lips of the older couple. The two youngest Weasleys were as red as tomatoes while the twins both had shit-eating-grins. Tonks and Harry were standing behind the younger Weasleys, leaning against each other to keep from falling to the floor in laughter.

Hermione looked up at Minerva. She was surprised the older woman had done nothing to stop the older couple. Two laughing emeralds looked back at her.

"Definitely fuels the passion."

"Seems to make it all they care about though."

"And that's bad how?"

"It will give people some stories."

"That it will."

Hermione glared at the twins."What did you two do?"

The boys knew that tone. That was the tone their mother used when she was on the edge. They bowed their heads, shuffled their feet, and apologized to the younger girl, "We're sorry."

Minerva chuckled at the predicament that the two deviants found themselves in. It was never a good idea to get on Hermione's bad side.

"And what exactly do you find so funny? Are you not the one who said no pranks?" Hermione huffed. "Yet, here you are, laughing at their inappropriate behavior."

"But..."

"Nothing," Hermione snarled. "Go separate Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, before they do something in front of their kids they will regret." She pointed to the half dressed couple.

Minerva did as told.

Six pairs of eyes followed the Headmistress as she obeyed the orders of a student without question. The twins looked back to Hermione. Their eyes shined with respect. They didn't think there was anyone who could order around their old Professor.

"Bloody hell!" The shout of said Professor brought the twins eyes back to her and their parents. Minerva was holding her nose, as blood slipped through her fingers.

"Do not touch my man!" Molly wagged her finger at the older woman. "There is more where that came from."

Not being one to give up, Minerva spelled her nose to stop bleeding then- once again- she separated the groping couple. This time it was her shin that was hit by a tiny foot. "Woman don't you know how to listen?" Molly grabbed the other woman's robes.

Minerva groaned. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't very well hurt her friend when she wasn't herself.

Hermione watched in growing anger as Molly proceeded to roughly handle Minerva. Her body was already burning with rage from the smell of her friend's blood. It was taking everything she had not to pull her wand and decapitate the Weasley matriarch. The last straw came when Molly raised her hand to strike Minerva again.

She was between the two women before anyone could blink. Molly took one look into furious golden eyes, and even in her befuddled state, she knew she was in danger.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Molly stumbled back and gulped when her back hit a wall. There was no where to run, and her whole body screamed for her to run.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered.

"You're sorry?" Hermione hissed, advancing on the shaking woman. Her eyes ablaze with unadulterated fury.

The rest of the room wasn't laughing anymore. They were genuinely frightened of their friend.

"Calm down," Minerva ordered. She embraced the woman from behind, pulling her tight against her front. "She is not herself."

"It doesn't matter why."

"Hermione," she tried.

"She hurt you," she growled, lunging for the redhead.

It took all of Minerva's strength to hold Hermione back. She knew she only succeeded because Hermione didn't want to hurt her.

"She is my friend. I care for her dearly."

Seconds of tense silenced followed. Hermione jerkily nodded, before breaking away from the older woman. She avoided everyone's eyes. Her anger was still palpable. "I will forgive her this once. Next time, I will kill her."

No one doubted her.

Hermione ran from the Room of Requirements. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she had to get away. She had to be free form the castle's walls.

The school, the Black Lake, and many tress of the Forbidden Forest fell behind her. She ran until her chest burned with each breath, until her knees gave in and brought her clashing to the ground of the Forbidden Forest.

She knew Molly wasn't in her right mind. She knew Minerva was capable of protecting herself.

None of it mattered.

She wanted to kill Molly for daring to hurt Minerva. She wanted to kill Arthur so Molly could know a fraction of her pain. She wanted to kill the twins for causing it. She wanted to kill Ginny for suggesting the fucking party. She wanted to kill Harry, Ron, and Tonks for just standing their and letting it happen.

She knelt there for hours until her knees had become chapped from her damp blue jeans.

She was numb as her thoughts raged: _What if Minerva decided to walk away? What if she decided she was too dangerous to be around?_

Shakily, she pushed herself to her feet. Her steps were slow and heavy and she walked back to the castle.

Courage burned away by her rage, she headed to the Head Girl's room. There was no way she could face Minerva.

Every step she climbed was a burden to her lead feet. Every breath she took was a nuisance to her exhausted lungs.

She kicked off her shoes, her shirt followed. Her pants were last as she dropped them beside her bed.

She slid beneath her covers in the pitch black room, too tired to deal with the hassle of pajamas.

Her eyes closed and her heart slowed.

In and out... in and out... she breathed. Slowly, her heart calmed.

"Where were you?"

Hermione jumped, roughly landing on the floor beside her bed. "How long have you been there?" How had she missed the fact that Minerva was in her bed.

"Hours. Where were you?"

Climbing back into bed, Hermione turned her back on her mentor.

"Where were you?" Minerva insisted, her hand pulling Hermione on to her back.

"The Forbidden Forest."

"You do know that it is forbidden for a reason?"

Hermione let out a cynical laugh. "Probably more than most."

"Why did you go there?"

"I had to get away."

"Because of what happened in the Room of Requirements." It wasn't a question. Hermione only shrugged her shoulders. "I am worried. It is not like you to act so out of control. There have been a lot of changes in your behavior lately. Not to mention the incident with the sword. I want to know why Hermione. I want to know now."

Hermione turned her back to the older woman. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"You should leave." She buried her face in her pillow when she felt the bed shift as the older woman stood up. She fought to control the shaking of her body as the older woman walked away from her. A sob escaped as the door to her room closed.

She flinched when arms wrapped around her. She sagged against her friend. If Minerva was going to stick around, she deserved to know.

"Every summer, the nightmares would get worse than what they were during the school year. They were bad, but I learned to ignore them... until fifth year. I can still remember it as if it was yesterday. I was taking the exam for Astronomy, when Umbridge decided to kick Hagrid off school grounds. Who would try to stop her but you? It was horrible watching as you were thrown back from the force of the stunners. For a moment you didn't move. For just a second, I thought you were dead, but then your chest raised just a fraction. It was as if the sun had risen for the first time in a millennium. I was so happy. That summer the nightmares got worse. I could remember bits and pieces. Your bloody and broken body haunted me." She turned to face the older woman, to caress the angled face. "I can't go through that again. I know my reaction to Molly wasn't perfect, but I can't lose you."

Hermione watched Minerva, unable to decipher what was going on in that brilliant mind. Her eyes drifted to trace over familiar features, only to stop on the skin that now bore her mark.

She smiled and succumbed to the urge to finish what she started. Leaning forward, she resumed her suckling.

Minerva remained still as her neck was feasted on. Her thoughts were filled with what Hermione had told her. _Could she really be the cause of the girl's nightmares, or rather, could her absence be the __cause?_

She didn't realize she had repositioned herself, so Hermione was on top of her or that her hands idly rubbed over the woman's bare shoulder blades.

Her eyes drooped as her mind begin to give in to her exhaustion. However, when she felt raised skin underneath her wandering fingers, her eyes flew open. She ran her fingers over the vertical 'scar' that ran across the girl's right shoulder blade and then ran her fingers over the vertical 'scar' on the girl's left shoulder blade.

The lips against her neck stilled.

Gently, she raised Hermione's head from her neck. Even in the darkness of the room, golden eyes glowed clearly.

She returned Hermione's head to her neck where Hermione immediately set back to marking her.

She thought about that. She knew now that was what it was. She was being marked even if Hermione wasn't aware of what she was doing. It made sense now. It was so obvious. The gold eyes, the nightmares, the fear of losing her, the protective streak, the touching, the need to hear her heart beat, and the scars on her back.

The only question she had was how it was possible. Hermione was a Muggle born.

* * *

><p><strong>Finally, they're starting to figure it out. <strong>


	8. Inevitable Changes

**Chapter Eight: Inevitable Changes **

**Disclaimer: I have to wait for Pottermore just like you. **

**Warning: 1... 2... They're coming for you. 3... 4... Better lock the door. 5... 6... Get a crucifix. **

**A/N: All your reviews made me grin like a maniac, which lead to some weird looks and a table by myself. Or was it the conversation I was holding with myself? *Shrug* I'll say you all are to blame. So from the bottom of my heart- it's deeper than what they say- I thank you. I can't stand being surrounded by strangers who insist on talking on their cell phones while I'm trying to study. Okay, there's might be a slight possibility that I was reading a fanfic instead of studying, but no one needs to know about that.**

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><p>Groaning, Hermione hid beneath her pillows. She felt like Snow White's seven dwarfs were hard at work in her head. If they didn't shut up, she was going to kill them. It was past time for Ms. White to leave her crowded nest.<p>

"Hermione!"

Under the heavy Gryffindor covers, white teeth flashed, forming into a vicious snarl. Her friend had betrayed her for the dwarfs.

"Hermione! Open up!"

Growling, Hermione threw back her covers and stalked toward the door that was guarding an endangered redhead. She yanked the door open and hissed, "What?"

Ginny's eyes bugged. "Uh... I think you forgot something."

Hermione cocked her head, her amusement rising as Ginny became outlandishly red. "What?" _I never should have given you my password. _

"C-lothes," she coughed.

Looking down, Hermione took in her body, only covered by her bra and knickers. "Excuse me." She slammed the door shut, barely missing Ginny's nose.

Behind the closed door, Hermione's headache was forgotten, as she dealt with the embarrassment of her friend seeing her in such a state. Sifting through her wardrobe, she settled on her long sleeve uniform shirt. She was briefly tempted to go ask Harry for a pair of his slacks but thought better of it. He would ask questions.

When she re-opened the door, Ginny was still there, rocking on her heels. "Is there something wrong with my nose? First, Tonks tries to rip it off then you try to smash it."

"We're trying to add character."

Ginny snorted, "Not interested," as she pushed her way into Hermione's room. Her eyes were drawn to the bed. "Rough night?" she asked in reference to the tangled sheets.

"No." She was grateful Ginny's back was to her as flashes of the previous night ran through her mind. She had given Minerva a hickey, correction, **Headmistress Minerva McGonagall**. Speaking of which, where was that woman? Minerva had never left before she had woken before.

"How are you feeling?" Fluffing a few pillows, Ginny kicked off her shoes and reclined. The bed alone was almost enough to make her want to be Head Girl. "You ran out of the Room of Requirements like a troll was after you."

"It would have been dangerous if I had stayed."

"About that," she searched through her pockets, pulling out a vial, "the twins wanted me to give you this. They're real sorry. They didn't think it would get so out of hand."

"That's the problem about the twins. They never think."

"They never meant for anyone to get hurt," she defended. Her brothers were good men. They just sometimes forgot their age.

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."

"Should I tell the twins that they still have a lot of grovelling to do?"

"If I were you, I would remind them that a potion is what got them in to trouble."

"Hint taken." She returned the vial to her pocket. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Harry and I disagree."

"Harry?"

"The only reason why he wasn't pounding on your door is because I convinced him that this was a female issue."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ah... huh..." Standing up, Ginny held up a folded piece of parchment that was addressed to Hermione in a very distinctive script. "And what of this?"

"Where did you get that?"

"Your pillow." She handed the letter over. "We're here when you're ready to talk."

Hermione watched her friend leave. She was shocked that Ginny didn't push her. She loved the girl, but Ginny wasn't known for her tact.

Turning to the heavy parchment, Hermione unfolded it and begun to read:

_Hermione,_

_I apologize for not being present when you woke. After your late night, I thought your continued sleep prudent._

_Until breakfast, _

_Minerva McGonagall_

Hermione grinned. She supposed she could forgive Minerva for not being with her.

Tucking the letter into her pocket, she slipped on her shoes, grabbed Ginny's, and headed for breakfast.

A sheepish Ginny was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Forget something?" Hermione teased, handing over the scuffed shoes.

"Thanks."

Both fully clothed and fully shoed, the girls headed to the Great Hall.

~ooOoo~

"Damn it Albus!"

Even dead, her old friend had the power of aggravation. The old fool refused to answer her questions pertaining to Hermione, but that damn mad twinkle was getting brighter.

"She is a Veela," Minerva stated. "She is possessive and angry."

"Is their a teenager alive who doesn't possess those traits?"

"Her eyes often turn gold."

"Accidental magic is an unpredictable force."

"The marks on her back?"

"I once knew a child who had birthmarks that resembled the wings of a dragon. They did not make him a dragon, much to his disappointment."

"Albus," Minerva growled, "tell me."

"I have taken the oath. Miss. Granger must be the one to tell you."

"If you were still alive, I would kill you." She flopped in her chair, her emerald eyes glaring at the insufferable portrait. "I will find out."

"Of that there is no doubt. It is only a matter of when."

A small chime sounded through the office. Minerva groaned as Albus' smile grew. "You have a visitor Min'."

A timid knock echoed off the large door of the Headmistress' office. "Come in," she called.

When Molly entered, there was no evidence of the battle of wills that had taken place between the two powerful forces over the past hour. Minerva sat behind her desk, as prim and proper as always, and Dumbledore was carelessly filing his nails.

"Good morning, Headmistress," Molly nervously greeted, her hands busily twisting part of her robes.

"Good morning, Professor Weasley. Please, have a seat." She waited for Molly to sit to continue. "What may I do for you?"

"I came to apologize. Last night is a bit fuzzy, but I remember enough to know I owe you an apology for my actions."

"It has already been forgotten." _By me at least. Hermione is another matter_. "You were not in control of your actions."

"Nevertheless, it was my boys who caused everything. I raised them better than that."

"Children do not always develop into what their parents raised them to be; however, where it counts the twins have succeeded in taking your lessons to heart. They are loyal, courageous, and stubborn."

Molly blushed. Praise from her old Professor was hard to come by. "Thank you." Standing up, Molly offered her hand. "I must thank you for not retaliating last night."

Minerva stood and accepted Molly's hand. "Like I said, I understood you were not in your right mind."

Molly offered an embarrassed grin before leaving the office.

"She should have thanked you from saving her from Miss. Granger," Albus added. "I hear she was quite the frightening sight."

"Bugger off." She stormed out of her office, tossing an inappropriate gesture over her shoulder.

Albus' laughter filled the office. "That's impossible for the dead Minerva!" he shouted after her.

~ooOoo~

On their way to the Great Hall, the girls were joined by Harry and Ron. Understandably, Ron was a bit hesitant of Hermione and made sure to keep Harry and Ginny in between him and Hermione.

"Is everything okay?" Harry whispered.

"I'm fine," Hermione answered, giving him a small smile. Harry had come a long way from the emotionally stunted eleven year old boy she had first met.

"Good. I would have come, but..." His eyes slid toward Ginny. "She said it was best kept between the girls."

"She told me."

He nodded in relief. "If you need to talk though," he offered. It was only fair. She had listened to many rants of his.

"I know where you are."

"Shit!" Ginny screeched as she tumbled to the floor.

The three friends left standing scrambled to help her up. "Are you alright?" Hermione questioned, her eyes looking for any injury.

"Just smarted my bum a bit." She turned to her assailant. "Are you okay, Professor?"

Minerva sighed. _Could this morning get any worse?_ "I am fine Miss. Weasley. I apologize for my carelessness."

Ginny stared. Did the Headmistress just apologize to _her_? "It's okay, Professor. I wasn't watching where I was going either." She couldn't let the woman take all the blame. She had been focused on Hermione's and Harry's conversation, not where she was going.

Discretely, Hermione took in the woman that she managed to fall asleep on the night before. The pale neck, which she knew from experience to be soft and sweet, was covered by a large collar. She hoped that meant that Minerva had decided only to cover her mark and not fully remove it. Lifting her eyes, she focused on the sharp profile of her friend. It was easy to see that something was bothering the older witch. The subtle lines branching from thin eyelids had become slightly pronounced. There was only two things, Hermione knew of, that caused the deep lines. They were worry and laughter. Minerva wasn't laughing.

Looking between his friend and his Professor, Harry decided it would be best to leave the two women alone. There seemed to be female issues that needed to be discussed. Grabbing Ron, Harry pulled the oblivious boy to the Great Hall, promising him food. Ginny followed the two boys, silently congratulating Harry.

With the hallway cleared, Hermione grabbed Minerva's hand and pulled her into an empty classroom.

"What's wrong?"

"Albus is an arse."

A sandy brow hiked up. "May I inquire as to why Headmaster Dumbledore is an arse?"

"He would not answer my question." On a lesser woman, the extended lip would be referred to as a pout. On a woman of Minerva's strength, it was steadfastly ignored.

"He has kept things from you before. What makes this time different?" Sneakily, she maneuvered Minerva onto a sturdy stool.

"The question is of a personal matter. I have the right to know."

"He must have his reasons." Slowly, her hand snaked to the back of Minerva's signature bun. Skillfully, her small hand made easy work of the rigid bun. She hummed as ebony locks were freed to cascade down to broad shoulders. "He usually has good reasons."

Minerva nodded, her mind focused on the feel of strong fingers raking across her scalp. It had been a long time since she had a good head scratch.

Hermione smiled when the head beneath her fingers started to vibrate with purrs. "Better?"

"Yeeeessss," the animagus rumbled.

Minerva was reluctant to pull away, but she had to be at breakfast. Pulling the hand from her hair, she stood up. "We need to go." Her wand appeared in her hand. With a quick flick, her hair was returned to her signature, pristine bun.

"I really need to get a wand holster."

"They are essential for any witch or wizard." Her wand flawlessly slid back into place. "Now, we really must be going."

~ooOoo~

The Great Hall was already bustling with students and teachers when she took the vacant seat by Ginny. The younger girl gave her a sly smile. "Work everything out?" It was obvious to see that something had changed in the Headmistress since they had literally ran into each other.

"For now." Hermione started to load her plate. She hadn't realize how hungry she was until she saw all the food spread out on the table.

"Are you trying to out eat Ron?" Harry asked. _Weren't girl's supposed to be fickle with food? Especially, teenage ones?_

"I'm hungry," the ravenous girl defended, adding another biscuit to her plate.

"May I have everyone's attention, please?" Headmistress McGonagall's voice filled the Great Hall.

Slowly, the clanking of silver wear and the harsh sound of hundreds of conversations came to a stop.

"Thank you." She paused to take in the sight of hundreds of attentive teenagers. It was one that didn't appear often. "As some of you have noticed, a new addition has been added to the Head Table. Ms. Felt, will you please stand?" All eyes panned to the lanky redhead. "This is Emily Felt. She has graciously agreed to teach Transfiguration for first years through third."

Hermione scowled at the new Professor. Who was this woman who stood so comfortably close to _**her**_ friend? Who dared to touch Minerva's arm and whisper something in her ear?

"Erm... Hermione?" Ron whispered.

"What?" Her eyes stayed fixated on that abominable woman.

"What did that fork ever do to you?"

Her eyes darted to the fork in question. Her hand dropped the mangled metal impulsively. "I was doing a trial on how reliable a spell that rearranges molecules of mundane metals is when forced to endure unprecedented stress such as..." she stopped when she produced the desired glaze in Ron's blue eyes. Her attention returned to McGonagall.

"I expect you to give her the respect her position demands." She then addressed the newly appointed Professor, "Do you wish to speak?"

Professor Felt nodded and exchanged positions with McGonagall. "I won't keep you long," she started. "You all have better things, food comes to mind, than to listen to me. I only wanted to introduce myself and offer a disclaimer. I freely admit I am not near the caliber of the Headmistress, but I guarantee you will leave my classroom smarter than you entered. That's all." Without further ado, she took her seat to the left of the Headmistress' chair.

"She's a looker," Ron noted, much to Hermione's displeasure.

"Grow up Ronald." Apatite gone, Hermione pushed her plate away and left.

Soon after, Harry went after her. He found her sitting against the wall by their Transfiguration classroom. Tossing his book bag to the side, he flopped down beside his friend. "Ron does have redeeming qualities."

"What?" Her disbelief was evident.

After some thought, he volunteered, "Comic relief?" She glared. "Or not," he amended.

"Do _you_ think she's pretty?"

Harry examined his friend. She was trying for nonchalance but was failing. It was obvious to him that his answer mattered. "She's pretty." He slung an arm over her slumped shoulders. "_But_," he stressed, you're beautiful."

She blushed, shyly looking away. "No, I'm not."

"I hate to tell you, but you can't tell me who I find beautiful."

She leaned against his side and gave him a pleased smile. "When did you become suave?" she teased.

Cockily, he shined his nails on his shirt. "What can I say? When you got it, you got it."

She swatted his stomach. "I can't believe you just said that."

The young wizard's smile softened at the sound of his friend's laughter. It had been a long time since he heard that precious sound. "It's nice to hear you laugh. I've missed it."

Hermione sobered. "Things really have changed, haven't they?"

"Yes," Harry gravely agreed.

Beneath the gentle light of Hogwarts' candles, the two friends sat alone together.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So my versions of Veela's are possessive, turbulent, and shape shifters. They're eyes glow gold and have wings in their 'natural' form. Now that being said, I can't see Veela magic allowing something as imperfect as scars on their flawless skin.

**P.S.**

Sorry for the lack of Hermione and Minerva personal time, but Harry's and Hermione's relationship will be important as well, so I needed to lay the foundation. For the record, it's a brother and sister type of relationship. So you don't have to worry that Harry's carrying some torch for Hermione and going to cause problems. That's what I have Ron for.


	9. Domino Effect

**Chapter Nine: Domino Effect**

**Disclaimer: I own jack squat... Eh, who am I kidding? I don't even own jack squat. **

**Warning: I'm lazy today, so I'll let you decide what should go here. **

**A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed. I know the last chapter wasn't the most interesting, but life often isn't.**

* * *

><p>"She's dead," she exclaimed.<p>

~ooOoo~

_**Hours Earlier**_

Tonks' flipped idly through her mail, half of her mind on her friend. For the past week, it seemed the youngest Weasley was avoiding her. She always had excuses: homework, studying, Quidditch, Hermione, and such. The first few times it happened, Tonks thought nothing of it, but when it became a daily occurrence, she knew something had happened to change their dynamic. She only wished she knew what that something was.

She sighed, opening an unmarked envelope (after checking for curses). Bored, her eyes scanned over the messy scrawl, quickly dismissing the majority of the letter. Towards the end, a certain phrase seared through her mind. Her feet fell loudly to the floor, as she straightened.

Quill in hand, she grabbed a random piece of parchment and begin to decipher the letter. It had been months, since she had heard from her contacts. She had even begun to believe they were dead.

Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs, her palms damp against the quill.

She roughly grabbed the letter and the deciphered message, letting her quill clatter to the floor, then ran out of her classroom.

She didn't know the specific importance of Australia. All she knew was that McGonagall's eyes had burned with a frightening fire as she ordered Tonks to keep an eye out for any mention of Australia. For once in her life, Tonks wished she had no part in the war. Whoever or whatever was in Australia was deathly important to McGonagall, and she had the displeasure of telling the most powerful witch of the age that Death Eaters were going to attack there.

~ooOoo~

Hearing the familiar heavy tread of her friend, Ginny ducked behind a statue, hoping Tonks hadn't noticed her. She need not have worried. Her frazzled friend didn't seem to take notice of anything in the corridor, as her dark robes billowed behind her.

The young redhead worried her bottom lip. If she wasn't mistaken, Tonks was scared. She had never seen the metamorphmagus scared. Even after battles, Order meetings, funerals, the war never seemed to truly affect Tonks fundamentally. While her eyes would cloud briefly, they were quick to return to their mischievous nature. But there she was, running down the corridor like Voldemort himself was after her.

Holding her books tightly against her chest, Ginny resumed her trek to the Great Hall for breakfast. Maybe Hermione would know what was going on, since Tonks looked to be heading toward the Headmistress' office.

The Great Hall was only partially full, most students still in bed, when Ginny sat beside Hermione.

The intelligent witch immediately noticed something was wrong with her youngest friend. She leaned over and whispered, "What's wrong?"

"I saw Tonks," Ginny answered.

Mocha eyes grew sympathetic. "Did she not react well?"

"We didn't get a chance to talk. She was running down the hall when I saw here." Ginny paused, turning distressed eyes to her friend. "She was running to the Headmistress' office, and she looked scared. Tonks is never scared."

Hermione squeezed her friend's forearm and offered reassurance. "I am sure: it is nothing."

If Ginny was almost anyone else, she would have believed the confidant reassurance, but she wasn't, and she saw. Hermione was worried as well.

"I would hate to be on their bad side," Ginny joked. She didn't want Hermione to worry more. She would have had to be an idiot not to realize how important McGonagall was to Hermione.

"They'll be fine." Her tone was resolute. "They have to be."

The rest of breakfast passed in silence between the girls. Neither had failed to notice that Tonks nor McGonagall had appeared for breakfast.

~ooOoo~

McGonagall groaned, as the soft chime that alerted her to someone's approach sounded through her office. She had just been about to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. With no one to witness her less than proper behavior, she flopped down in her chair. Her bum had just made contact with the soft leather when she heard the rapid knock.

"Come in," she called, her eyes narrowing as the sharp twang of fear wafted through her office. Her hand twitched while the muscles in her thighs bunched, ready for danger. "What is wrong?"

Tonks swallowed. "One of my contacts sent me a missive." Hand trembling, she held the letter out. "It's about Australia."

McGonagall snatched the letter, her feral eyes devouring the hastily scrawled words. _This was no coincidence. _"How reliable is your contact?"

"They've never failed me before." Unconsciously, her hair turned black and started to droop. "There's a chance they may be compromised. We were out of contact for months."

After minutes of silence, Tonks realized that she had been forgotten. She made herself comfortable on one of the old office chairs. What ever McGonagall had cooking in that brilliant mind, she was going to be a part of it.

~ooOoo~

By dinner, the absence of the Headmistress and the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor was widely noticed. Rumors ran rampant, as like many teenagers, the Hogwarts' students turned to one answer: sex.

Harry kept a close eye on his two female friends throughout dinner. He had a suspicion that neither girl was ecstatic about hearing the imagined sex life of Tonks and McGonagall.

"Think they were doing it during summer?"

Harry's head thudded against the table. He did not just say that.

"They were both acting funny."

He could feel the glares burning into his first friend. _How was he not running for his life?_

"I thought I heard someone sneaking around at night." He stuffed his mouth with mashed potatoes, humming as he chewed.

From between his fingers, Harry inspected the two girls then grabbed both of their collars and dragged them from the Great Hall. Ron dismissed Harry's weird behavior and returned to his food.

"What are you doing," Ginny growled, slapping at Harry's hand. "Let me go!"

Harry fought her, until they were safe in an empty classroom. He bent at the waist, slightly panting. _When did Ginny get so strong?_ He feared what would have happened if Hermione chose to fight him, too.

"Explain," Hermione stated.

_She's been hanging with McGonagall too much. She's starting to sound like her_, he thought. "I was trying to keep you out of Azkaban."

A sandy brow hiked.

"Mass murder is hard to explain."

Ginny blushed. "I wasn't going to kill them, just hurt them a little." She held her pointer and thumb half an inch apart.

Hermione remained suspiciously silent.

"Sooo," he drawled, straightening up. "I take it neither of you know where they are." He held his hands up in surrender, when the two women viciously flashed their teeth. "I'm on your side," he defended. Now, do you want to hear my plan?"

~ooOoo~

It was a lot easier to get into the Headmistress' office, without permission, than Harry thought it would be. The gargoyle didn't even demand a password. Harry didn't blame it. Hermione was his best friend and even he was slightly scared of her. He didn't think she realized that she wasn't completely controlling her magic. It was like a live entity that was wrapping around all that it encountered. By the wide birth Ginny was giving Hermione, he was willing to bet she was in the same boat as he.

"Where is she?"

Dismissing his musing, Harry turned his full attention to Hermione. _Who would have thought that the book worm in first year would be yelling at the portrait of one of the most respected wizards of all time?_

"I am sorry Miss. Granger, but every portrait is spelled to be unable to speak of the events that happen in this office."

"She's doing something stupid." It wasn't a question."Tonks went with her."

"Hermione?" Ginny called.

"What?" _Was it possible to destroy a magical portrait_, Hermione wondered.

"They're portraits," the youngest Weasley stated. "They can't stop us from searching this office."

The smirk the two girls shared sent a chill down his spine. _Note to self: never get in between Hermione and McGonagall or Ginny and Tonks._

"How dare you!" an unknown portrait screeched. "In my day, students would not dare to do such vile things. You see what your lenience has brought," the blustering man sneered at Dumbledore.

"In his defense," Harry spoke up for his old mentor, "if you were alive, you wouldn't be able to stop them."

"Deviants!"

"Oh, do shut up, Lenten," a severe looking woman, with a heavy brow, pleaded. "I do not have the patience today to deal with your insistent chatter."

A few portraits laughed in agreement.

"How dare you!" he huffed. "I am Lenten Braxton Caine the III."

"More like Paine," another portrait mumbled.

"I will not stand here and take such disrespect!"

"Then go stand somewhere else, but for all that is sacred, leave us," the severe looking woman groaned. When Caine had left, the she turned to Harry. "He's a pain in the arse. He always has a better way."

"How did he become Headmaster?"

"Political posturing. He is proof; money can not buy everything: mainly smarts."

"Hermione!" Ginny excitably screamed, wildly flapping a piece of parchment.

Looking over the redhead's shoulder, Harry glanced the name of his brunette's friend on the letter, before it was snatched by said mentioned girl.

With soft fingers, she traced the distinctive script. Unfolding the expensive parchment, Hermione began to read.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I had a small suspicion that when I failed to appear at dinner you would seek me out. I am also willing to bet, you yelled at a certain portrait, demanding he tell you where I am. While I doubt you regret it, I will still tell you not to. I have yelled at him many times, in life and in death, and still that mad twinkle survives. _

_I know you were hoping this letter would inform you of where I am. I am sorry to disappoint. I will not tell you, because I know you would come running (probably with Harry, Ginny, and Ron in tow). Please take comfort that I am keeping a promise that I felt honored to give. _

_It is almost time to go, so I leave you with this:_

_Nothing that happens is your fault. I went willingly and would not hesitate to do the same again. _

_Your friend, _

_Tabby _

_(You better be smiling. Deciding how to sign this letter took longer than writing the letter)._

_P.S. _

_Tell Miss. Weasley to ran-sack Tonks' office, next. _

Hermione lovingly tucked the letter into her pocket with a tiny watery smile.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"We need to go to Tonks' office. She left you something."

"Why would McGonagall leave Ginny something in Tonks' office," Harry innocently asked while smirking on the inside.

"We will pretend you never said that."

The three friends walked silently through the corridors. Their steps, even an eager Ginny's, were heavy. They had faced danger enough times to recognize the tension that warned when it was near.

"Hey! Wait up!" The boisterous voice gritted against their ears. "Where have you guys been? I look up from my dinner, and you were gone."

"We were looking for McGonagall and Tonks," Harry answered.

"Why? They're adults."

"Look Ron. We're going to Tonks' office. You can come with us, or you can go to Gryffindor tower, but we aren't wasting any more time explaining things to you," Harry calmly explained. He quickened his steps to close the distance that had formed between his two friends and him.

Ron met him stride for stride, mumbling, "No need to get your knickers in a twist."

Ginny's letter was propped against a book in the center of the wooden desk. Without reading it, Ginny slipped it in to her pocket. By anonymous agreement, the four students walked to Hermione's private rooms.

~ooOoo~

The air was thick with the stench of burning flesh. Those who had managed to escape the harsh flames were huddled behind the crumbled remains of their homes and stores. Blood caked hands held desperately to useless guns, and mothers clutched children close to their heaving breast.

Minerva and Tonks shared a look that spoke of well wishes for the other woman, before both dashed into battle.

"Expelliarmus!" The mere slip of a girl crashed to the muddied ground where her body continued to jerk as she lost control of her bladder**.**

"Petrificus Totalus!" Tonks shouted, binding the Death Eater that Minerva had disarmed.

"Emma!" A plump older woman kneeled beside the girl. With a mother's hands, she stroked the bruised face. "Wake up, baby. Wake up!" she sobbed.

With heavy hearts, the two witches dismissed the mother and child and ran further into the burning town whose cobbled streets were littered with bodies.

"Tonks!" Minerva called, her voice coarse from anger and smoke. The metamorphmagus ran to the Headmistress' side. "See to the wounded. I will look for the Grangers."

The image of brown eyes- dark with grief- pushed her forward passed the dying and through Death Eaters.

"Fancy meeting you here _Headmistress,_" a faceless Death Eater sneered. "Our Lord said you would come running like the good little pet you are."

"How original," Minerva scoffed. "Now, may we get on with it?"

"You should be politer to those who are in possession of something you desire."

The mob of black robes and white masks parted, reviling the tortured forms of the Grangers. "Are these what you were looking for?" The self-appointed leader prowled toward the bloodied Grangers. "They are such delicate creatures," he cooed, as his wand pressed against the bruised cheek of Mrs. Granger. "Why one with your blood would protect such pathetic creatures is beyond me."

Minerva laughed. "I bet there is much beyond you."

"How dare you mock me!"

"It is quite easy."

The masked Death Eater thrust his wand against Minerva's throat and hissed, "I hold _your _life in my hands."

Minerva smirked. "You do not."

"The mud bloods and half-breeds have made you stupid."

"That may be, but what is your excuse Mr. Malfoy?"

"I am surprised it took you this long to recognize me."

"As a teacher, I have learned there are times to submit to a child's fantasy."

"If My Lord did not want you alive, I would make you beg for death." He pushed his wand sharply against the pale skin of Minerva's neck, splitting the delicate flesh.

Minerva's nose twitched at the smell of her own blood. If she got out of this alive, Hermione was going to kill her. "I now know where you son inherited his cowardliness from. He hid behind your name, and you hide behind Voldemort's. You must be so proud."

"How dare you!"

Emerald eyes rolled skyward. "May me get on with it, before I die of old age?"

"The old bat won't have long to wait," was whispered through the mob of Death Eaters.

"Quiet," Malfoy demanded.

"Your control of your troops is lacking," Minerva helpfully provided. "They should serve their punishment immediately after committing the infraction."

"Quiet!" Malfoy screamed as his hand whipped Minerva's cheek.

Grinning, the animagus wiped at her bloody lip. "Is that the best you can do Luscious?" she asked with mock sympathy.

"I can do much better blood traitor," Luscious spat. "Sectumsempra!"

Pain erupted through her body, as screams were torn from her throat... then, there was darkness.

~ooOoo~

The steady breathing filled the room as three friends slept tangled on the worn sofa. Legs were bent weirdly, to allow six legs to claim a small portion of the dark fabric. Hands gripped hands, legs, and arms, while heads laid against a random shoulder or stomach. A fourth teenager laid splayed on the floor with a loud snore rumbling in his chest.

A soft chime sounded as the clock struck 03:00. Mocha eyes fluttered open and tracked to the clock. Groaning quietly, the newly woken brunette carefully began to untangle herself from her friends.

"Wha' you doin'?" was mumbled from somewhere behind her.

"Go back to sleep," Hermione whispered. She soothingly patted a leg she thought belonged to Ginny. The leg beneath her hand jerked as Harry woke.

"Wha's wrong?"

Hermione smiled. Of course, she would manage to wake both of her friends. "I need to stretch."

Her friends yanked their limbs away, freeing her to tumble to the floor.

"That wasn't what I had in mind," she giggled, "but it'll do."

"Sorry!" Harry and Ginny stereoed. They joined her on the floor, stretching their own muscles.

"It's alright."

"Do you think they're back, yet?" Ginny inquired.

"Let's check the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey is probably refusing to release them."

"Probably," Harry agreed. "She never wants to release me."

"Gin, will you wake up Ron?" Hermione asked then turned back to Harry, when the redhead set about kicking her brother awake. "Madame Pomfrey always has good reason for keeping you."

"It's not my fault someone's always trying to kill me."

"No it isn't, but it is your fault every time you get pushed off that damn broom of yours."

A small scuffle broke out between two redheads, ending the familiar argument.

"Stop kicking me, you bloody woman!"

"Get up! We're leaving, you bloody fool."

"Enough, both of you. Ron we're going to look for McGonagall and Tonks. If you want to come, get up. If not, go back to sleep," Hermione calmly gave the ultimatum, as she headed for the door. Ron was left, scrambling to catch up with the other three.

~ooOoo~

The infirmary's door opened into complete chaos.

Beds had been over turned, cabinets raided, and the floor stained with blood as they fought to save their leader's life.

Tonks and Arthur held Minerva's thrashing body to the bed, as Molly and Pomfrey tried to stop the insistent bleeding. "Her heart's slowing!" Molly yelled.

"Put more pressure on her wounds," Pomfrey ordered. Her wand flashed above the weak form in too intricate of patterns for the students to follow. "Sit her up." She pulled a potion out of her apron and forced the cloudy white potion drown Minerva's throat. "Lay her down."

"What do we do?" Tonks asked as Minerva stopped thrashing.

"I do not know," Pomfrey admitted. "I have tried everything, and I can not stop the bleeding."

"What happened?" Hermione demanded.

"You shouldn't be here. Get them out of here," Pomfrey commanded.

Tonks slowly approached them. "Go along now. There's noting you can do." Softly, she pushed them toward the door.

"No." Hermione angrily pushed Tonks to the floor. "Move," she warned, when Pomfrey stepped forward, to block her. "Move or I will move you."

Pomfrey stepped aside. Her instincts demanded it, for her continued existence.

Molly moved to intercede but was stopped by her husband.

Ignoring the blood and dirt, Hermione climbed onto the bed beside Minerva. She held Minerva's cold, blood soaked hand to her chest and tucked her head against Minerva's neck, where she knew her mark remained. Her free hand fell to the animagus' chest, to rest above her heart. The normally strong beat was faint against her hand.

Smiling, she allowed the faint beat to lead her.

Tears ran down Pomfrey's face, as she read the now pointless diagnostic spell. "She's dead."

The air was thick with the despair of those left behind. They had lost a mentor and a friend, and the wizarding world had lost one of its greatest witches.

"Madam Pomfrey, why isn't Hermione moving?"

Pomfrey cast a diagnostic spell on Hermione.

Her wand clattered to the floor.

"She's dead," she exclaimed.

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><p><strong>AN: Minerva is a pure blood, for the purpose of this story. The leaked back story is completely ignored. **

**And on that cherry note, I bid you ado. **


	10. Part One

**Disclaimer: I've the sun in my pocket; I've danced on the moon; I wrote Harry Potter. I've also walked on water and cloned myself. **

**Warning: "I saw mommy kissing Mrs. Clause!" **

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Real life tried to kill my muse. It's a bit sleep deprived and stressed, but I think it will survive. If not, I'll capture another... always wanted to try a lasso. *Shivers* Maybe not. Lasso + Klutz = Danger! **

**This is part 1 of 3, and sadly, what Hermione is won't be revealed until the 3rd part (She's not a Veela). **

**Hermione's OOC for this chapter, but come on. What teenager is as squeaky clean as Rowling portrayed Hermione and her friends? They live in a boarding school- WITH MAGIC- they're going to get in trouble. **

**Random note: Just realized fanfiction hasn't been emailing me all the reviews.  
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><p>"Fucking birds!" Hermione yelled. Her head was killing her. Did her friends talk her into drinking? She'd kill them if they did. She had promised never again, not after the the fumbling kiss with Ginny. Merlin, that had been awkward... and quite painful, like nails on a chalk bored. Only thing worse was the peck with Viktor in fourth year. To this day, she wished she would have kneed his Quidditch arse. He had no right to steal her first kiss. At least with Ginny, they were both out of their right minds; she suspected a certain pair of redheads had something to do with it. She mentally noted that she still had to pay them back for that and Halloween.<p>

"Squawk! Squawk! Squawk!"

"Shut up!" she shrieked. She scrambled for her wand, but her hand was met with damp earth and the pliable blades of grass. "What the Hell?" She opened her eyes and quickly shut them. _These are the_ _times you need a wand_, she lectured herself, _and guess what, YOU DON'T HAVE ONE!_

She was going to kill her friends. It couldn't be helped. They had to pay. Pay for turning the sun so bright, for the damn birds in the bushes, the damp grass that was causing a chill in her bones, the pounding in her head, the uncomfortable flush to her skin, and a hundred other things she would think about when it didn't hurt so much to think.

Honestly, she would have been perfectly content in her bed, with a trusty book, and her wand within reach, but _nooo, _she had to take offense to words from a prat and spend the day in a too large bathroom crying her eyes sore. She should have known that day their friendship would spell nothing but trouble. What more could she expect? It was formed by fighting a troll and was that fun trying to explain to her parents.

"_How did you meet them, love?"_

"_Nothing forms friendships quicker than almost being clobbered to death by a troll, mum." _Yeah, right. It was more like, _"They helped me out of a tight spot. May you please pass the potatoes?"_

Hermione snorted. She always was bad at deflecting.

Now here she was seven years later lying on the ground in an unfamiliar place with a pounding headache and no recollection of how any of it came to be.

Friends were over rated. Really, really overrated.

Cursing her **ex**-friends- who would be paying Poppy a visit, soon- she pushed herself onto unsteady legs. She imagined jello must fell this way after a curious child couldn't fight the urge to poke the mystifying food. _Merlin, what was in that drink? Or was it drinks? _

"If I find out the twins had anything to do with this, I'm going to chop off a two nonessential appendages," she grumbled as she stumped towards the torture devices (commonly referred to as birds). Without her wand, there was only one way to handle them. The Muggle way.

Hazy mocha eyes scanned the unknown land for the pests. Even in her aggravated state, Hermione admitted the place was a paradise, with lush grass, towering tress, crisp air, and cloudless sky. Truthfully, she would be perfectly content if the damn trees would stop staring at her. Merlin, she'd become soft in the head. Trees staring at her? Yeah right. That was impossible, just like goblins, trolls, dragons, and magic. "Not helping," she growled. She had long ago decided that talking to oneself is perfectly alright as long as one has no witnesses. A slightly unhinged laugh escaped her purse lips.

"Squawk!"

Her eyes swiveled to the bush she deemed responsible for housing the birds. Beneath green and red leaves, luminescent blue eyes watched her. She counted six unblinking eyes. She had a feeling sudden loud noises (a.k.a. the Muggle way) were not going to work, when trying to scare these birds off.

Slowly- with a challenging glint in their eyes- they extended their bright purple necks and opened their elongated white beaks- showcasing a lime green tongue- and released a loud, "SQUAWK!"

"What are you?" she growled, baring her teeth at the beasts. These freaky birds could be Death Eaters in disguise... and so could those watchful trees... and... oh, who was she kidding? It didn't even seem plausible in her own head. She ran her hand through her hair in frustration. "What is this place?" she mused aloud.

"This place is called many things yet has no name."

Hermione spun around, her heart pounding violently against her rib cage and her hand reaching for a wand that wasn't there. "Are you trying to kill me!"

Golden eyes glowed with gentle amusement. "I apologize, young one. I am unaccustomed to approaching those who are not aware of my presence."

Hermione ignored her. "Where am I?"

The corners of dark lips softly curved upward. "This place is called many things, yet it has no name."

Hermione scowled at the strange woman. "You've said that already. What do you mean?"

"I apologize. You gave no indication of listening to my first utterance. As for what I mean that is for you to decide. Only you can name this place."

Hermione rolled her eyes. _Great. She's one of those_. Her voice was sweet honey as she politely inquired, "What do you refer to it as?"

"Home," was the simple reply.

"Why am I here?" She would get an understandable answer from the devil woman if it killed her. She had survived Dumbledore, after all.

"That is more difficult to explain."

"'More difficult?' You haven't explained anything!"

"Calm yourself, child."

_Oh Merlin, the woman's like Dumbledore on crack. Damn twinkle_. "I am no child," she spat. Her first battle against Death Eaters marked the day that ended the right anyone had to call her a child.

"In your world you may not be a child. Here, though, you are."

"Then send me back to my world." _It's not exactly Ancient Runes_.

"Are you sure you want that?"

Something in her tone made the young witch pause. "Why was I brought here?" she asked carefully. Something a lot more important than drinking with her friends happened.

"That is the wrong question, young one."

"What's the right one?" A large knot was forming in her stomach, almost rivaling the twisted tension in her chest.

"Why would you come to a place that is not your own?"

_Childish theories of Minerva and Tonks taunting her._

_Harry dragging her and Ginny away._

_Worry at the continued absence of the Headmistress._

_Anger at a certain previous Headmaster. _

_A worrisome letter._

_Time passing slowly._

_Waking up in a tangle of arms and legs._

_Leading her friends to the infirmary._

_Minerva's blood, on the floor, the bed, the walls. _

_Taking her place beside the beloved form._

_Slowing her heart, to match that of Minerva's._

_Tranquility. Acceptance._

"Min-" She thickly swallowed. "Where is she?"

"She is yours to find, not mine." The caramel skinned woman stepped forward and cupped Hermione's heated cheek. "You will find her only when you are ready, my child." The ageless woman stepped back and waited.

"Squawk!"

"You have got to be kidding me!" Hermione shouted to the heavens, her savage hair blowing wildly in the sudden, uncontrollable breeze. "Where is she!" Her eyes burned with frustrated tears that fell down a tightly clenched jaw. "Minerva!" she shouted. She would give her last breath to have her friend answer. "This isn't funny!" _Please, let this be a sick joke_. _Please_, she silently begged. "Minerva!" she screamed, until her throat was raw. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God," Hermione chanted, while her hands frantically pulled at her hair. This couldn't be happening. Minerva couldn't be dead. The woman was too stubborn to die. Her mind was playing tricks on her. That was it. She wasn't really in a strange world. She was passed out on the Gryffindor sofa lost in her mind. Any minute now, she would wake up and Minerva would be standing above her, with a disapproving look and a sharp reprimand ready. That's what was going to happen.

She clinched her swollen eyes and whispered, "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up." A sob raked her body when her eyes opened and only the strange land greeted her. She fell to her knees."Please," she begged the silent woman, "where is she? I'll do whatever you want. Just take me to her."

The unnamed woman kneeled in front of Hermione's shaking form and clasped the student's trembling hands with her own. "If I knew, I would have already told you."

"She isn't dead?" It was a question more than a statement, despite how hard she tried.

"She is here, somewhere. You must find her."

"H-how?" she croaked. "Please, tell me. I need her." She needed Minerva to keep her nightmares at bay, to give her something to smile about, to hold her close, to give her something to fight for, to live for. "I need her."

"You've followed her countless times. Now it is time for her to follow you." The woman moved to stand.

"What?" Hermione grabbed the woman's hand. "I don't understand."

With a tender smile, the woman broke away. "You will. I must go now. My mate is calling."

Before her eyes, the tall woman disappeared.

A hopeless scream was torn from her. Her body crumbled to the ground and shakily curled around its self. "Minerva," she whimpered. She hurt. Her heart pounded tortuously against her chest- a constant reminder that she lived while Minerva was gone. "Minerva." This wasn't supposed to happen. When she laid beside her friend in the infirmary, she knew they would be together. She felt it with every fiber of her being. It's why she didn't hesitate to follow Minerva. She knew they'd be together. That's all that mattered. Yet, here she was. Alone. "Minerva." She shivered. She was cold, so cold. "Minerva."

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><p><strong>Warning: I think Ron's going to die in this story. His death will have meaning. Also, I'm going to be rough on him in the coming chapters before his death, but I'm going to try and explain why he's acting the way he is. I don't just want to bash him for no reason. I don't care when other authors do that to a character, so I'm going to try and avoid that.<strong>

**Apologies: Thanks to those who took the time to review. I'm sorry I didn't reply. My phone sucks, and that's what I usually use to check my email. From now on though, I'm going to try my hardest to reply. I feel like an ass for not doing that. I think it's only fair that you took the time to review so I should reply.**


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